Pieces of the Sun
by AnonymousLullaby
Summary: A spin-off of life after the anime movie, Conqueror of Shambala, a little bit of the manga mixes in as well.
1. The Discovery of Magic

**Author's note: (Disclaimer: I do not own the concept or story of Fulmetal Alchemist)**

**This is my first Fullmetal fanfic, so I'm sorry if it's far below average. I'm still trying to get a hang of the formating process on this site...anyway this was originally written for my cousin, I'm posting it on here in honor of her, may she rest in peace :)**

**I hope you enjoy the story and thank you for reading!**

**Love,**

**AL**

**P.S. It annoys me, which most likely means it is going to annoy you too, that the main character's name is barely mentioned in this chapter. I have no idea as to why I did this :p**

* * *

It was beautiful. A little worn around the edges, but beautiful all the same. Bound with black leather and lined with fine gold that shimmered when held up to the light. The pages had been stained yellow and were full of small tears and folds due to excessive use over the years.

She had stumbled across it on accident while searching for a broom to sweep up the dirt that had been carried in by her father's boots. The broom had not been put back in its rightful spot in the, well, broom closet. Having remembered that her father had used it last she'd snuck into his study and took a quick peek into the cabinet.

And sure enough, there it was. Faded, long, and splintering, the broom rested against the mahogany wall. It was when the girl wrapped her slender fingers around the neck of the broom did she spy the book.

It didn't seem like much at first glance, but when she brought the ravaged, dust-covered thing from out of the cabinet it was truly magnificent. Right away she could sense that there was something different and unconventional about this book, that it wasn't like the others that were perched on shelves in her father's study.

The wooden floor creaked as she sat down, the book nestled in her lap. After laying eyes upon it just once, the strong desire to open the book overwhelmed her. She knew reading the book would be frowned upon by her father, who had for some reason felt the need to hide it away from her young, curious eyes.

The temptation was too strong. She felt as if she were once again a young school girl, trying to sneak cookies and other sweets into her bedroom.

She gently opened the thick yet fragile covering, and peeled past the first few pages.

She came to a page marked by a one, it was what she assumed should have been the title page, but whatever print was once there had been covered by a small Polaroid picture with pale, frantic writing, which she immediately recognized as her father's, beneath it.

The picture was of an older man, with hair the color of pale, golden wheat and warm, sad eyes. On both sides of him there was a little boy, the one on the right had the same, pale golden hair as the man in the middle. The boy held up a small green trout, the light reflecting off of its slick scales. He looked slightly older than the one on the left, whose hair was a darker, dirtier shade of blonde. The girl stared at the picture for a considerable amount of time.

She had a feeling of familiarity when she looked into the bright, determined eyes of the little boy on the right. Even the one to the left sparked something in her memory. She recognized that expression on the young child's face…

A light bulb went off in her head and triggered her memory. She realized that she was staring into the youthful eyes of her father and uncle. Yet no matter how long she racked her brain, she could not produce any memories of the man in the middle.

_He must be my grandfather…_she marveled, delighted by the picture of the ancestor she'd never known.

Curiosity ran through her veins as she continued down the page. Beneath the picture in big, pale letters it read:

_ALCHEMY_

_The first law of equivalent exchange:_

_Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. _

She slid a finger under the page, ready to flip it over and drink in the wondrous magic that the book contained. She froze in the act as the sound of foot prints slowly floated through the air. They stopped just before the front door.

She slammed the book shut, her heart racing.

Very slowly, so she wouldn't make a sound, she got to her feet and placed the book back into the cabinet. Rustling noises came from outside of the door and she knew he was trying to find his keys.

She silently closed the cabinet doors, completely forgetting about the broom, which had been the focus point of her original quest. The noise stopped as she tip-toed across the old, warped wood, thankful that their apartment was so small.

By the time the lock clicked and the door burst open she was already in the kitchen, scraping dried noodles off of the bowls they'd used for dinner the night before.

She greeted her father with an innocent smile as he sat down on their tattered, floral-printed couch with a sigh. He unlaced his damp black boots and set them beside the coffee table, revealing a metal prosthetic where his left leg should have been.

He looked…tired. Despite his upbeat manner and the light-hearted tone he used as he told her of his day, she could see the weary look in his eyes. It slowly sank into her until she became acutely aware that he had gone to visit her Uncle Alphonse that day.

His words seemed to go right through her. Instead she thought of her uncle and the weary look in her father's eyes…it reminded her of the picture in her father's secretive book. The book that she would have to sneak back into the study to read long after her father has gone to bed.

She thinks of the man in the middle, with his long hair and melancholic expression, she glances over at her father, who continues to chat away on the couch. Only then does she realize how similar he looks to the man in the picture.

_That strange man…, _she thinks,

_why did he look so sad?_

* * *

The chalk was light and daunting in her hand. It was small and barely the size of her thumb nail, but it was the best she could do.

Her two younger cousins sat eagerly beside her, staring at the foreign symbol that she'd drawn on the floor of her bedroom. Her father's deep laughter floated in through her door which had been cracked open.

"Come on Sky!" Her youngest cousin, Hugh, encouraged.

She bit her lip anxiously, it was a risky move that she was about to make.

After her father had gone to bed on that fortunate day that she'd found the book, she snuck back into his study and smuggled the leather-bound mystery into her own bedroom. She'd studied it for weeks, and now she felt ready, like it was her time to finally get a piece of the magic that it held.

"Just a minute," she whispered, putting a chalk-dust covered finger to her lips, signaling for her cousin to be quieter when he spoke.

She had explained to her cousins the basics of the magic that the book had called alchemy, and they were beginning to grow impatient to see it with their own eyes.

It was the first night in a long time that the boys' mother, Sophia had felt well enough to leave the house and join the family for dinner. She could hear her aunt begin to cough lightly as the adults spoke happily in the common room.

She had desert cooking in the oven, and the sweet aroma of apple pie tainted the evening air. She knew she'd have to finish this fast so that she could pull the pie out of the oven to cool.

She glanced down at her work; she'd drawn a symbol which the book had called a transmutation circle. Marcoh, her older cousin, yawned boredly, his olive-colored eyes watching her expectantly.

"Uh, okay," she began, setting the chalk down. She herself had never seen a successful transmutation and was unsure whether she could pull it off or not.

"I am going to transform this piece of paper into a rose," she gulped and held out her hand. Marcoh passed her the sheet with a giddy grin beginning to form on his face.

"Can you really do it, Sky?" Hugh asked excitedly.

She opened her mouth to respond but ended up wincing instead as the wafer thin paper sliced the tip of her forefinger. Ignoring the slight sting she set the paper down in the center of the circle and looked back at her cousins, "I can try."

A fat drop of blood slid from the tip of her finger and dived to the ground below. It landed right beside the paper, slightly smearing the chalk. She thought nothing of it as she closed her eyes and mentally recited the chemical compounds of the threads of fiber that the paper contained. _I'll have to bind the carbon just right if I want the fiber to re-shape..._

Hugh and Marcoh exchanged shifty glances at once another and scooted back toward the door which stood slightly ajar.

Her lips quivered as she clapped her hands together, just as the book had said, and brought them down on the paper. At first there was only silence as the trio waited for something to happen. When all hope was starting to be lost, a wonderful blue light came from the circle and illuminated the room.

The boys watched with wonder as the light flickered against their pale faces. She smiled, it was working.

Her hands began to tingle as she continued to press down; she knew the paper was probably shifting, changing its form.

The sweet smelling air was tinged with smoke and she knew the pie would be ready and second.

The tingling began to spread, up her arms, across her chest, as the light filled the room.

Her cousins' delighted faces began to fall, their once upturned lips slowly formed into surprised, almost horrified grimaces.

She could hear footsteps coming from the other room. The light was so bright, almost to the point where she could barely see a thing. The sensation had spread all over, tingling, as if her entire body had fallen asleep.

The light was too strong; the faces of her beloved cousins began to fade. Her desk and window, and her door which someone had thrust open all faded into the pale blue light. The room around her was disappearing as her body went numb.

Her mind was beginning to go; she could no longer think properly. She felt like a ship, lost in the fog, unable to tell in which direction the shore lay.

The light was being eaten away by shadows. They began in the corners and slowly crept forward. Out of the increasing darkness came on last noise. Her father's voice.

She had never heard his voice this way before, it lingered with desperation as he cried out, "Skyla!"

It rang in her ears; it was as if the voice was reaching out to her, trying to pull her from the darkness that entwined itself around her body.

But it was too late; her father's comforting voice was replaced by the heavy sounds of silence as the last bit of light became concealed by the shadows.

* * *

Back and forth, slowly swinging. She blinked once, then twice, and then once more. The faster she blinked the clearer the tree became. A large, charred oak tree loomed over, like the rest of the world it appeared fuzzy and unfocused.

It had been swaying back and forth but finally came to a stop as her head began to clear. She took a deep breath, letting the refreshingly cool mid-morning air fill her sore lungs.

Every muscle hurt. She twitched her legs and grimaced with discomfort.

No matter how much she blinked or how long she stared at the sky her vision was still blurred. Everything around her seemed to be mashed together. The sapphire sky bled into the wayward grass and the clouds were fluffy white wisps that stretched across her entire line of vision.

Her head throbbed and she didn't dare try to pick out memories from the jumbled, cloudy mess that had once been her brain. The only thing she could remember was dreaming of a door. It was quite exquisite with many carvings…there had been a strange, white figure outlined in black…it spoke to her just before the doors had swung open to reveal a large, dark eye that seemed to peer straight into her soul…

She lied sprawled out amongst the blackened remains of a house that had been burnt and abandoned long before her time.

A slight breezed picked up the ash that lied beneath her and deposited it over her bare, shivering frame. It tickled her bruised flesh, making the small hairs on her arms stand on end.

It was all too much-the memory of her dream, the light and colors, and even the distant noises that buzzed in her ears. She closed her eyes, wishing for it to all just fade away and be gone.

As the young girl drifted back into a state of unconsciousness the fingers of her left hand uncurled, revealing crumpled crimson rose petals lying in her palm.


	2. Ruins of the Past

**Author's note:**

**(Disclaimer: I do not own any version of Fullmetal Alchemist or the concept of the series)**

**I'm not quite sure about the inner workings of a military's hierarchy, but I'm pretty sure that a Lt. Colonel is a high rank...feel free to correct me if I am wrong.**

**Love,**

**The sleep-depirved AL**

* * *

"_Can you really do it, Sky?"_

Hugh's eager voice echoed in my ears and throughout my brain, bouncing off the walls of my skull as if my head were empty.

The only thing I felt was the strong desire to not open my eyes. The sharp pains that I eventually associated with moving my muscles were so overwhelming that I held my breath to keep my nerves from exploding.

"Shit!"

The voice threw off my concentration and I gasped for air, my eyes flying open involuntarily as I did so.

The pain radiated throughout my body as I started to breathe regularly again, my shriveled lungs crying out in desperation. "Oh, thank God, you're alive."

It took me a second to adjust and to realize that the annoying buzzing noises that filled my head were words from another human being. I stared at the plain white ceiling until the world around me ceased to sway before I paid attention to the other person in the room.

I opened my mouth to speak but the new comer beat me to it.

"Oh here, let me help you up," the person offered. Still staring at the ceiling I didn't have a clue as to who this person could be, but I listened as their feet moved across the floor to where I lay, as they grew closer their shadow fell over me, obscuring the brilliant light attached to the ceiling fan.

The person gently grabbed my elbow, which, much to my surprise, I didn't object to. I clenched my teeth, preparing for the worst, and pushed off of the bed with my other hand.

A sharp, aching feeling tore through and I leaned back against the propped up pillows, exhausted by such a small effort. "See? That wasn't too bad," I now recognized the voice to be male, and slowly turned my head in his direction.

I stared at him as I tried to catch my breath, one deep inhale at a time.

He gave me a small smile and I squinted, trying to focus my vision. Despite my efforts the world still appeared a bit blurry around the edges. He seemed…so familiar…at first glance he reminded me of a boy I went to school with.

His charcoal-colored hair was unkempt, as if he'd just woken up; he wore a lazy expression on his sun-kissed face that told me my suspicions were correct.

Those…eyes, he continued to stare right back at me with dark, soulful eyes. I had seen those eyes somewhere before.

I attempted to speak once again but was having trouble finding my voice. My lungs throbbed with every breath I took and my throat suddenly tightened. I couldn't hold back what was about to come.

I cupped both hands over my mouth, the faint aroma of roses finding its way into my nostrils as I did so. The tickling in the back of my throat became more prominent, until finally I began to cough. My throat burned as I coughed again and again, unable to control the fit. After a minute or two of this I spat out a warm, thick liquid into the palms of my hands.

I swallowed hard, a metallic taste settling over my tongue. I held my hand over the side of the bed to prevent anything from staining the blankets I was under, and watched as my blood trickled from the base of my thumb before becoming little crimson splatter on the wooden floor below.

"Here," the boy offered, pulling his black T-shirt over his head and handing it to me. I wrapped my shaky fingers around it hesitantly, wading in the shallow waters of guilt for having taken his shirt. I was about to wipe my hands when another fit came on, and I held the thin black cloth to my mouth as more blood came up.

"Rolland?"

"Now, where did that boy wander off to now?" Another voice came from the hallway, this one softer, feminine.

I managed to clamp my mouth shut and swallow down a mouthful of my own blood. I wiped the corners of my tearing eyes with my clean pinky finger, desperately hoping that the coughing fits were over.

The boy waited a few heartbeats before answering her and together we listened to the woman as she shuffled from room to room in search of him, "I'm in here Winry."

Some more shuffling occurred until finally a tall, slender woman appeared in the doorway with one hand on her hip and the other holding a glistening silver wrench in the other.

"Oh! You're awake," her voice was soft, motherly almost. I stared back blankly, trying to steady my ragged breathing. The woman smiled sympathetically.

She had loose strands of golden hair framing her pale face while the rest was tied back and pinned up with a small black clip. She too seemed vaguely familiar…

"I came in and she wasn't breathing…hasn't said a word yet but started coughing up blood just a few minutes ago," the boy informed her, his voice grim.

The girl's bright blue eyes were filled with concern and…something else, some foreign emotion that she'd buried deep within her long ago. She stared intently at me, as if I too was a familiar face to her, and she was trying to remember who I was.

"Winry?" The boy asked casually, a touch of confusion lingering in his voice.

"Those eyes…" she murmured thoughtfully, still staring right at me. I pursed my lips together worriedly, trying to make sense of what was going on.

"Huh?" the boy peered at me again, brimming with curiosity.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that they would go away. I didn't want this, these people. I didn't want to be ogled and stared at by strangers.

It was all one bad dream, I told myself; one of those dreams where everything feels familiar but in reality just isn't true.

"Oh, nothing…anyway I called your father a few hours ago, he's coming over now," I opened my eyes hesitantly to see that they were speaking to one another, their attention no longer focused on me.

All color immediately drained from the boy's face, "You did what?"

"Normally I wouldn't have done anything but this is such a strange situation that I thought it best to see what he thinks about it."

The boy frowned, "What does he think?"

"He should be here any-" she stopped mid-sentence and narrowed her eyes suspiciously; "Wait, why? What's this all about?"

"And what happened to your shirt?" I couldn't help but crack a smile at her bewildered tone. I looked down at the damp black fabric that was clenched between my quivering fingers.

"Uh…don't worry about it; anyway my Dad hasn't got a clue that I'm here right now! He's going to freaking kill me!"

"Quit shouting! You're going to wake up Grandma," she scolded him in a hushed voice.

The two glared at each other, the tension building in the air between them. I opened my mouth once again, about to break the tension that had been building when a loud knocking noise stopped me.

"Speak of the devil," the boy huffed and folded his arms across his chest. "He's going to wake the entire town up," the woman muttered and stormed quietly out of the room. I stared at the plain white walls and listened as the front door creaked open. The woman's polite voice carried through halls, although I couldn't make out exactly what she was saying.

I looked over at the boy who stood quietly; his once friendly face was now etched with anticipation.

"What is going on?" I managed to force the quiet, feeble words off of my reluctant tongue and into the air.

He looked at me, surprised. With a sigh he unfolded his arms and gave me a whimsical, side-ways glance,

"Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang has arrived."

* * *

I clenched my fists so hard that I could feel my nails digging through the shirt in my hands. A great, aching began in the tips of my tightened fingers and slowly crawled its way up, past my wrists, and then my elbows.

The man whom I assumed to be Roy Mustang stepped through the door, his large black boots sounded heavy against the feeble wood floors. I glanced from the man, and then to his son, astounded by the resemblance that that boy bore to his father.

They were both tall and lean, well-built with dark, intense eyes and coal-colored hair, although Mustang's hair was much shorter, and the man was overall more clean-shaven than Rolland appeared to be.

Something moved right behind him, and I noticed that he was accompanied by another woman.

Fear was beginning to seep through my veins…I had to get out, to get away. Far away from that foreign place filled with strange people.

I watched silently as Roy Mustang let out a deep sigh and raised one hand to his forehead, "What are you doing here? Your report said that you had been given direct orders to stay in Central."

The Lieutenant Colonel had closed his eyes and wasn't even looking at his son as he spoke.

Rolland shifted uneasily, as if he were trying to think of a quick excuse when Winry cut it, "I asked him to come…I, uh, had a shipment of auto mail parts that got lost somewhere down in Central and asked if he wouldn't mind bringing then to me…"

She had a hopeful, yet slightly guilty smile on her face as Mustang looked over at her, annoyance swimming in his dark brown eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, and turned back to his son, "And what the hell happened to your shirt?"

There it was again, the soft tickling feeling was beginning to creep back up my throat. Rolland began his sentence but I couldn't quite hear his words as I cleared my throat, trying to rid it of the bothersome feeling.

I let out a small cough, and then another, and before I knew it I was dry heaving into the shirt once again. Maybe the strangers were moving in the room around me, if they were speaking I couldn't hear their words. All sounds had been drowned out by the pounding in my ears as I gulped down again in an attempt to force my body to behave.

Once I had quit coughing, I realized that the attention in the room had turned to me. I stared warily back at all four of them and wiped away the drops of fresh blood from the corners of my mouth.

"Where did you find her?" Roy Mustang asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his navy blue slacks.

"She was laying in the ruins…of...the Elric's old house," Winry informed him quietly, it sounded as if saying the name out loud was painful for her.

Elric? I narrowed my eyes, contemplating whether I'd heard correctly or not.

The woman who stood beside Mustang inhaled deeply, her warm amber eyes wide with surprise. Mustang raised an eyebrow and his son picked it up from there, "Yeah…I saw her when I was on my way over here with Winry's delivery."

I diverted my eyes away from Mustang and focused on the woman standing patiently at his side. She was a few inches shorter than Winry and her hair, which was a darker blonde, had been tied back in a similar fashion. She gazed at me thoughtfully; her presence was almost…peaceful.

"Has she-"

"Don't speak of me as if I'm not in the room," I croaked hoarsely, struggling to get the words out. The confusion that earlier rattled my brain was simmering down and I was beginning to think clearly as my energy started to come back to me.

The four of them turned to me, like they'd forgotten I was there to begin with.

"W-What do you know ab-bout the Elrics?" The words stumbled clumsily out of my mouth.

Roy Mustang narrowed his eyes and countered, "What do _you_ know about the Elrics?"

"I asked you first."

The room fell silent as we glared at one another. A few heartbeats went by before Mustang smirked, amusement plastered on his handsome face, "It doesn't work like that in the military kid."

"It's a good thing I'm not one of you then-isn't it?" The more I spoke, the stronger my speech was getting, bringing my confidence back with it.

"How does she know about them?" The woman beside Mustang whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

"The brothers may be gone, but their legacy lives on through the people they've saved," Rolland answered simply. He seemed to be the only one who didn't look pained when the Elrics were mentioned. Mustang continued to stare at me, his eyes unwavering.

"It's not like I am going to just open up to some kid and let her in on every detail I know of Edward and Alphonse."

My heart skipped a beat when he said their names. So I hadn't been mistaken after all.

"I am a relative of theirs!" I blurted out on accident. I could my face flush as they turned to me with wide eyes and skeptical looks. Winry's, who had been silent the entire time, mouth had dropped open in surprise for a brief second, but she quickly composed herself.

Even in my numbed state I still retained enough common sense to know when to withhold information.

"That isn't possible," Winry declared, folding her arms across her chest. "Let's hear her out," Mustang muttered solemnly.

I took a deep breath, embracing the pain as I peeled back the downy quilt that had been covering me. Slowly I swung my legs over the side of the bed and let myself slide down onto the floor. I noted that I was wearing a simple, pale gray night gown that fell down to my knees, something that I hadn't remembered being a part of my wardrobe. The cool air felt nice against my trembling legs as I tapped into every last reserve of energy that my body could possibly have. I held out my slightly shaking hand toward Mustang and tried to put on a smile, "Skyla Elric, sir, I am the daughter or Edward Elric, nice to meet you."

I froze, unsure of what his reaction would be. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw the small glimmer of a tear beginning to form in Winry's pale blue eyes, but then I quickly changed my mind and decided I was mistaken. The woman exchanged an unfamiliar glance with Rolland, as if she were trying to convey something without having to speak the words out loud.

He took my hand and the corners of his mouth twitched into a smirk, "I first met your father in this same room, of course the little twit didn't have the courtesy of getting out of bed and introducing himself…"

"Roy he only had one leg," Winry pointed out dutifully.

"Oh…yeah," he coughed, as if it were a minor clerical error or something like that.

…One leg...a memory of me as a young girl flashed in my mind. I had wandered into my father's room in with high hopes that he would coax the fear out of me after a bad nightmare. I stood in the doorway and watched him groggily make his way out of bed. As I did so I caught a glimpse of his prosthetic leg, the light from our hallway reflected off of the bolts on his ankle, causing the silver to sparkle.

"How do we know she isn't lying?" The woman's voice brought me back to reality. I was beginning to feel light-headed after standing for so long.

"Well of course she is Edward's daughter, don't you see her eyes?"

Startled, we all turned our gazes to the doorway where a stout, elderly stood, tightly clutching her wooden cane. "G-Grandma?" Winry asked softly before going to the old woman's aid.

The woman hobbled over to me, and for once I was able to look down at someone as they spoke rather than up at them to see their eyes. She had silvery-gray hair that barely reached the shoulders of her pale pink night gown. She peered at me through thick, wire-framed for a moment or two before speaking again, "She's got Edward's eyes alright, they've got that look in them."

She stretched out her hand to me, "The name's Pinako, I'm Winry's grandmother if you couldn't tell."

"It's very nice to meet you," I smiled politely and shook her small, knobby hand.

"Well this is much more serious than I thought," Roy Mustang muttered, sounding almost distraught. My legs began to ache the longer I stood and I found myself suddenly regretting ever getting out of that bed. Winry clapped her hands together, breaking the silence that had dispersed throughout the room after Mustang's comment.

"Well then," she began, seeing that it was going to be a long night, "I'll put on some tea."

* * *

The fresh scent of chamomile wafted through the air. The black kettle's high pitched screech still rang in my ears as Winry handed each one of us a steaming mug. After going around the room, she herself finally sat down beside her grandmother. I picked up my cup and brought it cautiously up to my lips as I waited for someone to speak. I usually didn't like tea very much, but this time I found the warm liquid comforting as it slid soothingly down my scratchy throat.

"It seems that you have some explaining to do," Roy Mustang said casually and leaned back in the wooden table chair that he sat in.

His words slowly sunk in…and the more I thought of what he had just said, the more frustrated I became. "I have explaining to do?" my voice was still hoarse, and even when trying to be loud I was barely above a whisper, "What the hell is going on? Why am I here?"

I realized that all of a sudden I was standing, grasping the cup with both hands, looking like a fool. I let out a small, embarrassed cough and sat back down. I let out a deep sigh and placed the cup back on the coffee table. The woman, whom I had learned was named Riza Hawkeye, opened her mouth to speak but I cut in, "I…I just want to go home."

I was ashamed at how defeated I had sounded…but I was too tired to fight back anymore. Deciding to hold her tongue, Riza pursed her lips together softly and threw Mustang a stern look. As she did so, I happened to notice the shimmering silver ring that she wore on her left hand. That's when it hit me. She was most likely Mustang's wife and Rolland's mother. Disappointment lingered in the back of my mind; I was surprised that I hadn't put two and two together earlier on.

"We can't get you home if we don't know where you came from, daughter of Edward," Mustang leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees with his eyebrows raised suspiciously. I wasn't quite sure what to think of this man and his condescending tone…

I caught a glimpse of Rolland smirking as Hawkeye threw Mustang another stern look. "Fine," I raised my hands in defeat, "I will go first then."

I rested my palm against my forehead, trying to pull back some sort of memory, but all I got were snippets, like a puzzle that had pieces missing. I pushed aside the blurry pictures and told of things that I could remember. "I live in Munich, although I have overheard my father talking to my uncle sometimes about heading to London."

They all stared at me blankly; as if I had just told them that I live in some fantasy world filled with fairies and other varieties of mythical creatures. "…It is in Germany," I clarified, although most Europeans were familiar with where Munich was located.

"Where do you think you are right now?" Winry's grandmother asked, sounding slightly troubled.

"Well I was hoping that one of you would be able to tell me."

It wasn't until Rolland piped in and informed me that I was in a town called Resembool that realized I was much farther from home than I had originally thought.

"_How _did you get here? It's all about the how," Mustang said knowingly, staring at me intently. I bit my lip and replied hesitantly, "It's all a bit blurry…I-I had found a book in my father's study," as I spoke an image of the black leather book flashed in my mind, "I came across it by accident, a-and there were some strange things written in there. It spoke of a law…one of…"

"Equivalent exchange," Mustang finished for me, looking grave.

I nodded, the more I talked the clearer the singed memories became. "I read through it, after all, it wasn't like anything I had ever seen before. It was a book of alchemy, it said. I had heard that term used before in a few of my classes, but it was referred to as a dead science…I didn't think it actually worked."

I paused, yet no one stepped up to fill the silence so I continued on, "I read it again and again, I was fascinated by such an idea. I dreamt of practicing it and being successful, that I would show the world that it was more than some lost idea,"

My hands were beginning to tremble.

"We were having my aunt and uncle over for dinner…I hadn't seen the two of them or my cousins in weeks which was unusual since we were always so close. I had a pie baking after dinner," I hesitated, retracing the steps of what had happened that evening, "and I thought that it would be a good time to show the boys the tricks I'd read of, the alchemy. So the three of us went off into my room and I explained to them the basics, or at least what I understood of the subject."

I didn't like being on the spot and started to fidget uncomfortably as my memories progressively flowed back into my mind.

"I drew out a symbol on the floor," I paused and redrew the basic structure of the symbol in the air, "like that."

"A transmutation circle," Riza muttered quietly.

I looked up at the ceiling, wishing that I could gaze upon the night time sky and watch as the stars twinkled above our heads, "I was to transform a sheet of paper into a rose."

I could hear my voice quivering as I spoke, "The paper I was using gave me a cut on my finger and I got a bit of blood on the floor boards, but I took no real notice of it. The pie was almost ready and I began the process, just as the book had told me…"

My voice grew softer as I strolled down the winding road of the memories of a night or two ago.

"At first it was magical, wonderful blue light had surrounded us but something happened, something went wrong a-and then the shadows came and started to eat away at the light. I couldn't see them anymore, or hear anything, I couldn't move, couldn't breathe," my throat constricted and I knew my eyes would soon begin to tear. "…and then, it was over. As I slept I dreamt of two great, black doors. There was an eye in the center of the two doors. When it stared at me I felt cold, empty even. The doors opened…and…and then I woke up and found myself here."

I dug my nails into the inside of my thumb in an attempt to silently fight back the tears that were beginning to swell in my eyes.

"Roy?" Hawkeye asked softly. The Lieutenant Colonel had his face buried in his hands. He looked up with a sigh, "Damnit, I destroyed the gate on this side…I thought those boys had done the same thing…it shouldn't have opened like that. This is much more serious than I thought."

I jumped back, startled, as Winry stood up swiftly, her hands clenched into fists by her side.

"How can you talk about this like this is a bad thing? If the gate is open again then we can get bring Ed and Al back home!"

"Winry…" Pinako began, but she had already excused herself and stormed out of the room.

The room fell quiet and sleep began to wash over the confused mess of tissue formerly known as my brain. Hawkeye gently touched Mustang's arm, muttering something too quiet for anyone else but him to hear. Rolland sat with his head in his hands, looking just about as confused as I was-I hadn't noticed that he was wearing a plain white T-shirt now.

"Well," Pinako stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of her night gown, "It is late, and the trip back to Central City isn't a short one. I expect you all will be staying with us tonight. Roy, Riza I'll prepare the guest room for the two of you, Rolland can sleep on the couch-Oh, and I will make up a bed for you in Winry's room."

"Thank you Pinako," Riza Hawkeye smiled gratefully and stood up, "I'll clear the cups."

The elderly woman nodded and headed off down the hall. I was bursting with curiosity, but was afraid to ask just what exactly was going on. I opened my mouth hesitantly, finally summing up enough courage to confront Mustang when he suddenly spoke.

"Listen closely, because what I am about to tell you may come as a bit of a surprise."

"Okay," I nodded warily, watching as he leaned back in his seat. I was ready for some answers no matter how bizarre they turned out to be.

"Do you believe in the concept of a parallel world?"

I bit my lip, curious as to where he was going with this, "I have never given it much thought."

"I'm afraid that you are very, very far from home. This world is not your own."

"Excuse me?" for some reason this barely hit me, and I was more concerned about the back story behind it all.

Mustang nodded as his wife began to clear the cups and set them in the kitchen, "Alchemists analyze, break down, and reconstruct the matter around them. This science is possible in our world-we have been able to harness its abilities. When Edward and Alphonse were young, they attempted to resurrect their deceased mother using alchemy. Although we can accomplish many things through alchemy, human transmutation isn't one of them."

I nodded, barely following what he was getting at.

"When they tried their hand at human transmutation it went horrible wrong. They came across a gate, the gate between worlds. The years following their little fiasco more information about the gate was revealed. In the end Edward wound up on the other side of the gate, in the world in which you were born."

"Like a parallel universe?"

"Similar to that, yes," he nodded, "Alphonse, however, stayed in this world. The other world was one without alchemy; they had a different way of life and advances in technology. People from that new world discovered how to open the gate from their side, and attempted to conquer our world."

It was beginning to sound more like a dramatic play than a real story, "What happened?"

"We forced them back into their own world, and when we did Edward and Alphonse returned with them. We had made an agreement-I would destroy the gate from this side, while they would destroy it from their own."

I let this new knowledge sink in to digest. My family was in an entirely different world?

"When you attempted that transmutation I believe you re-opened the gate somehow, and went through from your world into ours."

"My dream…" I gasped, putting the pieces together. Those big, carved doors had loomed over me, the laughs of the shadow children as they pulled me inside…

Lost souls maybe? Or people who were trapped in the gate long ago, unable to make it through.

"Lieutenant Colonel, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

He shook his head, "Go ahead."

"How did my father lose his arm and leg?" Out of all of the questions that were swarming around in my head, the one that was least relevant to our conversation had been the one I had subconsciously decided to blurt out.

Mustang took a deep breath, "During that human transmutation I told you of. Edward lost his arm and leg in the gate, and Alphonse his body. Ed was able to attach his younger brother's soul to a suit of battle armor to prevent his soul from also being lost in the gate forever…It was the price they paid, after all, equivalent exchange escapes no one."

A moment of silliness passed over me as I tried to imagine my passive uncle in a large, bulky suit of steel.

"Alphonse gained his body back over time-Edward still missing his limbs?"

I nodded, growing increasingly more tired by the second.

Lieutenant Colonel Mustang stood up, "I understand that this is a lot to take in. Sleep on it, and we will continue to discuss the situation tomorrow."

I too stood up, my limbs aching as I do so, "Thank you sir."

I glanced to my left as Mustang began to walk away, but Rolland had gone. As I made my way to Winry's room I couldn't help but wonder at what point in the conversation he had left, and where exactly it was that he had gone off to.

* * *

"So you're Edward's daughter?"

I nodded politely while trying to hold back a fit of coughing.

Winry smiled and sighed dreamily, "Edward and Alphonse were my two best friends growing up."

I let out a small cough, grateful when I didn't taste even a hint of blood. I pulled the blanket that had been resting on my shoulders around me tighter.

"Really?"

She nodded, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside me.

"I never saw either of them as the marrying type…but time changes people," her voice was filled with nostalgia as she spoke, and I suddenly felt terribly guilty-my presence having opened up an old wound for so many people.

"My father was never married. Uncle Al, on the other hand, has been married to my aunt Sophia for almost ten years now."

She giggled, "I remember Al once told me that he was never going to fall in love…but he was just a kid then."

"Things change," I nodded, reinstated her original idea.

"Edward never tied the knot..." she muttered thoughtfully.

"Mm hmm. I don't know much about my mother, only that she wasn't with my father for very long and left me with him right after I was born. She came back to us five years later but only lived with us for a month or two before she passed away." It was a strange feeling, talking about my mother. The subject had been very hushed around my father and I only knew snippets of what my uncle had told me, since my memories of her were too vague to be relied on as a liable source.

"I'm so sorry…I grew up without a mother too."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

"My parents were medics in a civil war that occurred a long time ago…I was just a young girl. They were killed by a state alchemist because they were helping both sides…"

I wasn't quite sure what a state alchemist was, but I still smiled sympathetically, "I guess life never turns out how we hope it will."

She lied down on her back and replied thoughtfully, "Yeah…"

With that our conversation continued, sprouting off into deep, uncharted territories. It surprised me how easily we were able to open up to one another, and tell of the things that lied in our heavy hearts. I felt as if I were talking to a close friend rather than a woman who was nearly my father's age.

She spoke of her husband, who had died on duty, and of her passion for constructing auto-mail, which I had learned were prosthetic body parts made of metal.

We talked until finally, our weary heads hit the pillows. Winry's soft, steady breathing filled the room as she drifted into a deep sleep, while I lied on the floor and stared at the bland ceiling. I was exhausted, aching, and sore yet sleep refused to come.

I slipped out from beneath my covers and quietly pushed off of the ground with my hands. I wobbled a bit before I found my sense of balance and then silently tip-toed out of the room.

It was nice to finally be outside it in chilled autumn air. Getting out of the house had been a bit trickier than I'd originally expected when I stumbled, literally, across a small black puppy guarding the front door.

"You made it past the guard dog? Impressive."

I jumped, startled by the presence of another person. I looked around until finally I spotted Rolland, leaning against a small wooden table with his hands in his pockets. "Hah, yeah," I replied awkwardly, my mind still hazy.

"So what are you doing out here?" He asked casually before turning his back to me. I raised my eyebrows curiously, "Couldn't sleep…why are you out here?"

He shrugged, "Cleaning."

"…So you come outside during your spare time…to clean?" My voice sounded a bit more skeptical than I had meant it to. I slowly eased over to where he was standing by the table, and sure enough it was true. He was wiping down a slender silver wrench with an old rag. "I would build something but there isn't enough light to properly see when it's this late, not to mention the morning dew would cause the auto-mail to rust."

Again, I was gradually putting the pieces together.

"You're an auto-mail mechanic?"

"Well," he began and turned back to face me, "sort of."

"Explain yourself," I sighed, I was too tired to be playing head games.

"My true passion isn't necessarily auto-mail; it's more being a mechanic. I've been in love with it since I was young, but my father always chose not to see it. He wants me to do something productive with my life, to help our country. Really I think he's just trying to covet more people for when he makes a move at the president's position. Anyway he started me off in a training program for soldiers and now that that is over with I'm stuck being an assistant until I can work my way up into a higher position."

"But you don't want to." I stated more for my understanding rather than his.

When he nodded, wisps of black hair fell over his dark, concentrated eyes. He ran a black-smudged hand through his charcoal-colored hair, pushing it out of his face.

"I've always wanted him-them, to be so proud of me…I just can't get the guts to tell either of my parents that I don't want to be part of their little game. The military is their thing, they've been a part of it for ages but it's something I don't want to do. Winry's sort of taken me on as a part time apprentice, so I sneak out here whenever I can."

"Is Riza your mom?" I wasn't quite sure why I was asking him this, since I was already pretty sure of the answer.

"Yeah," I could make out a small smile beginning to form on his face. I had to squint to see everything in the darkness, with the only light coming from the clusters of stars above us. The moon was nowhere to be found.

"So you're the alleged daughter of Edward, eh?"

"No," I corrected him, "I am Edward's daughter."

"Okay, okay," he held up his hands before exchanging the wrench for a rusted bolt, "no need to get defensive…so what about your dad? Is he as psychotic as mine?"

I let out a small laugh, "Sometimes. I barely remember my mother, she wasn't around until I was five…and even then she ended up committing suicide, so it's been just the two of us for a while. He's always been accepting of what I wanted to do with my life, who I wanted to be."

Rolland smiled, "He seems like a good father…what do you want to be?"

It felt strange, chatting as if nothing had happened and we were simply two people who had met on the street or in a train. "He is," I returned the smile; "All I've ever wanted to do was paint, but my dad is kind of like yours…he wants me to be successful and productive and a life of an artist is far from glamorous. I got a couple of my instructors to write me recommendation letters…and I applied to one of the most prestigious art schools in Paris…I mentioned it to him but the subject was quickly dropped. Just a week or two ago I received my acceptance letter…but even if I told him, he wouldn't have let me go…and now…"

I grew quiet and started to twirl a strand of thread between my fingers.

He set down the bolt and rag and looked up at the night sky with a whimsical look on his face,

"I wonder when they'll realize that these are our lives."

I nodded, and we both stood there thoughtfully for a few heartbeats. I took a deep, wheezy breath and decided to press on, "Winry was married?"

"Yeah, Liam was a good guy."

"Oh, she didn't tell me much…only that he died on the battlefield."

Rolland picked up his rag again, "That's what she was told by the military, but the truth is no one really knows. His records report that fellow soldiers witnessed him shot once in each shoulder and then he fell to the ground. But when medics were called out to recover him, the body was gone, no trace of blood or anything."

I must have looked impressed…or confused, either way he laughed and clarified, "I have access to most military files and documents, it doesn't hurt that my father is such a high rank either. Everything is supposed to be extremely confidential but he still slips up every once in a while and tells me about cases that normally I wouldn't know of."

He leaned back against the table again, and turned to me, "Why don't I give you a rundown of everything?"

I smiled, amused, "Sure."

"Currently, you're in Resembool. This is rural, small town Amestris. Then you've got the capital of Amestris-Central City, it's where most military command takes place…"

As he began to speak, I realized that this was the first time in days that I had smiled or laughed.

"The leader of the country is Stephen Beckett. The previous Fürer, King Bradley was revealed to be a homunculus, which is an artificial human created through the means of alchemy. Once Bradley was killed and stripped of his throne, Beckett was the first snake to take charge which resulted in his presidency. He's a spineless creep and has done no good with this country. In the beginning things were alright, but then his corruption began to show. The general public has been too focused on the wars that they haven't stopped to think about who is the person responsible for all of the fighting. Just recently Beckett fell ill and now no one knows what is going to happen."

"Roy Mustang is trying to get his piece of the throne?"

Rolland nodded, "Several high ranking military officials are hell bent on succeeding Beckett, they all just want the power. My dad may not be the best guy for the position, but he's a hell of a lot better than most of the current candidates."

"Speaking of your dad…if you don't mind my asking…how'd he get that scar on his face?"

It was something I hadn't quite noticed at first but had become more apparent as the evening went on. Mustang had a large, rounded scar extending from his left eye.

Rolland laughed, "Don't point it out to him or he'll get all depressed. He still thinks he's the same stud he was back when he was twenty-nine. My father was the one who killed King Bradley, back in the day. He was leaving the battle when this crazy military guy named Archer shot him, missing his eye but just a few centimeters. He should have lost his entire eye, but my mom was there and shot Archer at the same time that he fired and he ended up falling to the ground, which softened the blow of his original bullet or something weird like that."

"Wow, dramatic," I commented, impressed.

He nodded and cracked a smile, "Hah, yeah…they've been through a lot together."

I looked back up at the ever expansive sky, "It seems like they all have."


	3. The Morning After Dark

**Author's note:**

**(Disclaimer: I do not own any version of Fullmetal Alchemist or the concept of the series)**

**I think I have finally got the hang on downloading documents and publishing stories :D**

**I know this is drastically shorter than chapter two, but there wasn't much that needed to be said. The storyline may seem a bit droll right now but I promise it will liven up in the near future. Thank you for reading :)**

**Love,**

**AL**

* * *

"Now what shall we do with you?"

Roy Mustang was idly sipping a cup of coffee while sitting at the dining table. The early morning sunshine filtered in through the windows, illuminating the entire house.

"We could always send her off to be trained so that she can apply to be a state alchemist," Winry muttered. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail as she sat at her work station, screwing a bolt into a long sheet of metal.

"Hm, now that doesn't sound too bad…"

"It was a joke!" she exclaimed, sounding slightly annoyed that he'd even consider taking her statement seriously. "Relax," Mustang dismissed it with a wave of his hand, "I wouldn't be that rash about it but we don't know whether or not the gate will re-open, it's not something that will happen with the snap of your fingers."

Winry huffed and turned back around in her chair to focus her attention on the auto-mail she was preparing. I had learned that four days had passed since I first arrived in Resembool and I was a bit startled by how quickly I felt at home. The tenderness of my muscles was beginning to die down and it was easier to move around without having to tolerate so much pain.

I poured myself a cup and watched the steam steadily rise into the air, "What's a state alchemist?"

It was barely seven and we were the only three awake in the house, save the little black puppy who was curled up at Winry's feet with its amber eyes focused directly on me.

Mustang sighed, "I forgot I have to explain everything to you…a state alchemist is an alchemist who is a part of the military. In order to become a state alchemist you must pass both a written and physical exam, then you receive an official alchemist name and a silver pocket watch,"

He rummaged through his pant pockets before pulling something out. The light reflected off of the silver, making it shine. At the end of a long, thin chain was a circular, wonderfully engraved pocket watch.

"You're an alchemist?"

Winry smiled at my question, and Mustang stared on with annoyance in his dark eyes.

"Yes."

"How does it feel meeting someone that doesn't know of your reputation, huh Roy?"

Mustang narrowed his eyes, "I'm the one and only Flame Alchemist."

Mustang then proceeded to rant about his success in the Eastern rebellion and his lifelong story of climbing the ranks of the military hierarchy. "Dad found out she doesn't know of his reputation, huh?" Rolland asked sleepily while walking into the kitchen.

"Mmm hmm," Winry nodded while intertwining two wires together. I stood there awkwardly as Mustang continued on, the sound of the toaster clicking to my left.

"But then my son came around and I should've tried for Fürer then, maybe my little boy would have actually _been proud _of his father!"

"I am proud of you Dad," Rolland stared boredly at the toaster, as if that would make the heating process go by faster or something.

"Then why do you constantly disobey my commands?" Roy Mustang sat up straighter and set his coffee mug down on the table.

"Don't even start Roy," I turned my head to see Riza Hawkeye standing in the doorway, although she was up and dressed a hint of sleep still lingered in the air around her.

"Good morning," Winry and I said in unison as Riza made her way over to the table to sit beside her husband. "Morning girls," she said quietly, trying to hide her yawn.

"Are you okay Riza? You seem tired," Winry asked distractedly, although it sounded more like she was thinking out loud. A smug smirk grew on Mustang's face and he opened his mouth to speak, but Rolland cut in, shaking his head, "Whatever it is just don't say it. God, isn't this part of the parental rule book or something? No sexual innuendos in front of your own son!" he grumbled, annoyed.

"That's going to burn," I warned him, peering at the slice of bread that was being heated. He shrugged it off, "It will be fine, I'm the toast-making master."

I turned away from him, still skeptical.

"You should be happy to hear your parents are still in love!" Mustang exclaimed cheerily, holding Riza's hand, his eyes practically twinkling.

"Keep it together Roy," she laughed, "You're starting to sound like…"

As she trailed off, his face fell, like he already knew how that sentence was going to end. An uncomfortable silence leaked across the room. It felt like everyone had understood the seriousness of her mistake, yet I couldn't think of how such a simple sentence could be so bad to finish.

The toaster dinged and a piece of flaking, blackened toast popped up, thrusting the faint smell of smoke into the air. "Damnit," Rolland muttered, picking up his piece of steaming toast.

Riza cleared her throat, "so what was this I heard about state alchemists? You three were being so loud we could hear the conversation from upstairs."

"I told you!" I whispered and he rolled his eyes, holding the unrecognizable square with two fingers.

"It was just a joke," Mustang clarified, all of the light silliness had been sucked out of him and he was back to his same serious tone. "So we haven't thought of anything to do about this?"

He shook his head. "Oh! We can-" I felt bad about interrupting Winry, but I couldn't tolerate constantly being spoken of as if I were some lost puppy they had found out in the rain, "Can't _I_ just decide for myself what _I_ want to do?"

The three of them turned to me, with doubtful looks on their faces. "After all this is my life no matter where I am. Shouldn't I be able to decide where I want to go or what I want to become?"

"The path to becoming a state alchemist is incredibly difficult...training alone would take years and who knows if you would pass the exam. Joining the military as a soldier is out of the question-I'm not going to let a young girl, let alone the daughter of a close friend, be turned into a dog of the military." I could see that no one was sugar-coating it anymore, we were getting straight to the point.

"What good am I going to be if I can't do something? I could try training to be an alchemist," I suggested, still unaware of what I would be getting myself into.

"Training could take up to three y-"

"One year, couldn't I do it in one and apply to be a state alchemist next fall?"

Winry looked up from the arm that she was constructing, "Ed did it in one, not to mention he was only twelve when he got his license."

Mustang frowned, "Fine, do as you please."

"Come one Pops, take it easy. After all, the greatest failure is not trying," blackened crumbs fell to the floor as Rolland took a bite of his burnt toast.

Mustang let out a deep sigh, "We'll have to find you a teacher, and get you some …"

I nodded and smiled as he went down the list. His words, although no one else was aware of it, were filled with hope and promise. A promise of the future, of moving forward, because at the end of one year, I would be going home.


	4. A Subtle Beginning

**Author's note: (Disclaimer: I do not own either the story of concept of Fullmetal Alchemist)**

**I think it's for sure-I have finally almost completely mastered, or at least I now understand the concept, of how to correctly edit and format documents :)**

**Sorry...this is exciting stuff for me. Anyway I know that there is a huge time gap between chapter three and four...I was too lazy to write out her whole year of training so instead I'm going to incorperate snippets of the past year she spent training into the future chapters.**

**This one seems a bit quick...I didn't have much time to write it. Oh! But another exciting thing- the name Abel means 'Son of spirit that breathes life' in Hebrew, thus his name The Breathing Life Alchemist :D **

**I found out that Skyla means 'fugitive' in Dutch...I wonder what that means for the future of this story :p**

**Well, I hope you like this next chapter, thank you for reading!**

**Love, AL**

* * *

Never before had I realized how pampered of a life I had led.

I hadn't been rich or spoiled or anything of the sort but it was a simple, comfortable life at that. I had family and friends, we always had a place to stay and warm food to eat...it was a life that shielded me from the true horrors and disciplines of the real world. I'd never given much thought to the ugly side of life…I had been content with what I had and didn't feel the need to think of a life that was worse or better than the one I was living.

Maybe that's why my first month of training was like a cold, stinging slap in the face.

I sighed and looked up at the large, fluffy clouds that were slowly rolling across the pale blue sky.

I felt silly every time I looked back at when I had first arrived in Resembool…even though hardly any time had passed I'd grown up as the true meaning of the world unfolded before my very eyes.

"It's already been a year…" I murmured, mostly to myself. The leaves on the trees were already beginning the transition from vibrant shades of green to the warm, welcoming colors of autumn.

"I know, I can't believe it!" Mischa sat behind me and braided my long blonde hair-apparently just another feature I'd inherited from my father. "You've got to remind me again Sky, why the hell am I doing this? Ugh, I don't belong in the military; I belong in a quaint little salon that's right next to the local florist so that every day when I'm working my husband will come in with a fresh bouquet of beautiful flowers…"

I laughed and tilted my head back to make it easier for her as she braided, "After he's finished his time at his office where he makes oodles of money selling ideas to corporate business men,"

"Of course," I could hear the smile in her girly voice as she spoke. I knew this fantasy of hers by heart.

"Ah, and once I've finished cutting and trimming and styling hair for the evening and all of my customers have gone, he'll sweep me off my feet and take me upstairs to the bedroom where we will make sweet lo-"

"You do know I'm _still _here, right?"

We both turned our heads slowly, surprised to see Rolland lying in the grass with his eyes closed, his mouth twitching in annoyance. In all honesty I'd completely forgotten about him.

"Don't be jealous," Mischa shrugged and then proceeded to unbraid my hair.

"Yes," Rolland began, covering his eyes with his forearm, "that's what I'm jealous of, having hot se-"

"What's the point of playing with my hair when you're only going to unbraid it afterward?" I interrupted him, knowing that it would irritate him even more.

"I like playing with it, it's so long!" I found it slightly disturbing how excited Mischa could get over another person's hair.

Mischa's father had been my teacher for the past eleven months or so. At first we were wary of each other, but as the long, painful months raged on we became closer than anyone could possibly imagine. For the first time in my life I had found my other half. When she was through playing with my hair she scooted forward so that she could sit right beside me.

Her wispy, chocolate-colored hair tickled my bare shoulders as she rested her head against me.

"Don't sweat it about the military; we won't be in it for long…only until we both get what we need, remember?"

She nodded.

"We'll always have each other's backs, right?"

She smiled warmly and linked her arm through mine, "Right."

"Ugh, I feel like a third wheel…" Rolland muttered and rolled onto his stomach.

"You're just mad because I get to cuddle with your girlfriend," Mischa stuck her tongue out at him playfully and snuggled into my shoulder.

"Shut up," he grumbled and buried his head in his arms. I exchanged a curious glance with Mischa, who shrugged it off and began talking about the military once again.

In a matter of days we would be catching a train to Central City to begin our careers as faithful dogs of the military.

Mischa continued to ramble on, now talking excitedly about my upcoming alchemy assessment.

I nodded patiently as she spoke yet my mind wandered to other places.

_What's eating him?_

I longed to find out the answer to that question but no matter how many times I tried, my lips remained sealed.

* * *

"I would want my name to something pretty and light, but not too girly to the point where people wouldn't take me seriously, you know? Like 'The Opal Heart Alchemist'." Mischa smiled as she thought up names for herself.

Rolland raised his eyebrows, "How does someone even earn a name like that?"

I stared out the window and watched the countryside blur by as the two began their routine bickering. The rural meadows and farmland were slowly fading and the city rested just beyond the horizon. We would be in Central in a matter of minutes.

I let my thoughts stray to my alchemy assessment, the very thing I'd been hiding away from for quite some time, although I didn't let others know this. The written exam would be easy beyond belief; it was the physical exam that caused me to worry.

A memory popped into my head as I thought of these things…

_I sat in my teacher's workshop, idly playing with a piece of string that had fallen off of my tank top. He instructed me to show him what I knew of alchemy, and what I was able to accomplish. _

_Determined, I got up onto my knees and clapped my hands together in order to circulate the energy within me. I pressed the palms of my hands down against his cold, dusty, wood floor and carved out a small wooden bird._

_Having set his expectations extremely low, his large jaw dropped as he stared at the simple sparrow. The incredulous expression on his face had confused me at first but then I remembered my lack of a transmutation circle. I had discovered I didn't need one when practicing with Roy Mustang. _

"_So you've seen it, eh?" My teacher asked, rubbing the stubble that was beginning to form on his tanned chin. _

"_Seen what sir?"_

"_The truth."_

"Skyla?"

I blinked in confusion. Mischa's voice had brought me back out of my own memories. It took me a few seconds but then I realized we were no longer moving. The train had stopped.

"This is it," She began, her voice full of excitement, "we've made it Central."

And so we had.

* * *

I couldn't see it. I stared into the mirror, desperately trying to see what they saw, but I just couldn't find it.

"_You have such kind eyes…"_

It's what the little old lady at the train station says, or the driver who takes us to the headquarters in Central City while all of the older state alchemists or military officials I had been introduced to would say something along the lines of,

"_I've seen those eyes before…"_

They're thinking of the eyes of my father. But as I stared into the slate of reflective glass I couldn't see a damn thing. I only saw my eyes, wide and hazel with a golden undertone. They were just eyes…

They weren't kind, they were plain. If eyes are supposed to be a reflection of one's heart what did this say of me? I didn't see my father's eyes; I saw my eyes staring back at me and no one else's.

My chest tightened as I struggled to breathe. This wasn't like me. I was cool and collected but now, all thoughts of calm had been thrown out the window.

"Skyla?" Rolland rapped his knuckles lightly against the bathroom door. I could hear him sigh.

"I know you're in there."

I remained silent and tightly gripped the edges of the porcelain sink.

"Okay, fine, what's going on?"

"I'm not doing the assessment," I called back, and twisted the lock on the door. There was a pause and then he tried twisting the door knob, but found that it wouldn't turn.

"Damnit, that thing was unlocked this whole time? Ugh, Skyla!" he knocked again, this time louder.

"The assessment is starting soon, all alchemists who don't make it to the starting station in five minutes will be automatically cut, why aren't you going to do it?"

The answer had been in me since the day Mischa first started talking about the assessment, but I had been too stubborn to let it. It raged within me until I could no longer control my feelings.

"Skyla, I swear I'll arrest you right now if you don't give me a freaking answer!"

I took a deep breath, "because I'm not him!" I had yelled it at him a bit louder than I had intended to and I could hear people stop and mutter on the other side of the door.

Rolland let out a heavy sigh, "Unlock the door."

With shaky hands I did so, and watched as he swung it open. "Everyone keeps comparing me to my father," I whispered, feeling like a child again as I diverted my eyes away from his empathetic gaze.

I expected something soft and comforting to come from him, but instead he smacked the side of my head with a newspaper he had rolled up in his hand. My state of patheticness was slowly evaporating to be replaced by a slowly developing sense of irritation, "What the hell was that for?"

"Go out there and show them that you aren't Edward."

I blinked in surprise. I had seen the assessment as way for me to live up to my father's skill rather than form a reputation of my own.

"Thanks," I smiled and pushed passed him. I didn't look behind me as I ran to the starting platform, my heart pounding in my chest, but a familiar feeling in my gut told me that he'd be watching as I stepped out onto the performance field.

"I heard that the Fürer is here…" A young, raven-haired woman whom I placed to be about twenty murmured whispered to the nervous fellow next to me as the announcer explained the rules and regulations of the assessment. "Yeah, I saw him myself…I'm surprised he could make it in his present condition," the man nodded solemnly.

I tried listening to both their conversation and the announcer, hearing snippets coming from both sides.

We would be set out onto the field in groups of three and try to show off our skills however we thought best by using the materials that had been supplied for us.

"You three," the large, well-muscled man pointed to a young boy, the Chatty Cathy, and the man she'd been talking to, "you will be the first ones out."

I stepped to the side, which allowed the three easy access to the expansive field in which we would be performing. I slowed my breathing, thankful that I would be able to watch what others would be doing first before giving it a go.

The raven-haired woman was drawing out her transmutation circle in the dirt while the red-haired man huddled secretively at a far end of the field. "What's he doing?" I turned to my left to see a girl perhaps a few years older than me. I shrugged, "Improvising?"

The girl laughed off my answer as if it were the silliest thing she'd ever heard.

"_I _heard that he brought his own animals," a boy beside her whispered scandalously, "he's a bioalchemist and he's going to attempt creating a chimera!"

"I didn't think anyone would be able to smuggle their own materials in, let alone animals," I pointed out while trying to get a good look at the man, who was now surrounded by an array of golden light. The girl beside me snickered, "Oh please, of course he can. They love that kind of stuff; it's what makes boring crap like this interesting."

I opened my mouth to speak but didn't get the chance. Someone let out a sharp, terrified scream and all eyes turned to the performance field. A large, mangled creature roared furiously, trying to free itself of the chain that constricted it. The man smiled proudly at his creation and pumped his first in triumph.

The girl casually threw me a dirty look, "I told you."

Murmurs broke out through the crowd as people stared in awe at the strange thing with the torso of a gorilla and what looked to be the distorted head of a male lion. Its back limbs belonged to the lion while the forearms were the muscled, black-haired arms of a gorilla.

The other two alchemists pouted, angered by his marvelous creation. The girl began to furiously transmute, and thousands of ice crystals shot up from the ground, glimmering in the sunlight as they showered down into the grass.

"Lame," the last boy alchemist who stood beside the girl, pretended to hide his comment with a fake cough. I rolled my eyes as the girl giggled, her eyes filled with false amusement.

My eyes widened as I watched the scene play out before me. One of the woman's dazzling ice crystals splintered into sharp slivers, which came crashing down upon the chimera and sliced through its iron chain. Before the alchemist responsible for it could react, the beast leapt into the air and smashed its great fists into the ground as it landed, causing chunks of upturned earth to shoot into the crowd.

Civilians began to run back to their shops and homes, screaming as the thing swung its head in fury. His creator attempted to restrain him once again, but the chimera swept him aside with a massive paw when he tried to draw out a transmutation circle.

"A-Aren't you going to help?" The boy asked the girl incredulously, his young eyes wide with fear. She tossed her dark blonde hair behind her shoulder and shook her head, "Hell no."

The boy glanced from the raging chimera and then to me, finally making up his mind he followed after the other alchemist who was already running towards Headquarters.

"Fine," I sighed and jumped over the make-shift gate that had been constructed to keep civilians a safe distance away from the field. The chimera roared as guns began to fire. I ran down the middle of the field, staying low as the soldiers fired away. Suddenly the chimera froze, whipped around and caught a bullet in its massive paw. It crushed the shell, which fell to the ground in the form of a fine silver dust.

"Holy crap," I muttered, watching as it took out the alchemist who had been shooting out the ice crystals. The woman slid across the field, throwing up dirt as she did.

"Elric!" I didn't turn to see who had called my name; I recognized the Lt. Colonel's voice.

"Stop firing you idiots!" he ordered and then 'pop' of the handguns ceased. The chimera took a swing at me as I got closer. It clipped my side and I winced, but continued on. Pushing off its leathery palm I swung around to kick it in the face. The creature grunted, as if I'd barely made a dent, and seized my wrist, throwing me down. My head smacked against the cold, hard earth and a giant shadow fell over me as the chimera came toward me. It raised its fist above my head. For a brief second it hesitated and I stared into its shimmering red eyes. They were filled with pain.

The chimera let out an enraged, blood-curdling cry and stepped forward as its fist fell through the air, ready to slam down on my fragile human head. I clapped my hands together and rolled to the left, out of the line of danger, before pressing my palms against the cool earth. Rearranging the iron and other metallic compounds within the soil I produced long rows of black metals bars and then a slab for a roof, caging in the chimera.

I coughed as my lungs inhaled the clouds of dust that had been thrown around during the little episode. I could hear footsteps approaching as the soldiers scrambled to regain order. I spit out a mouthful of blood and quickly wiped the corners of my mouth to make sure that no one would know before I turned around breathlessly.

Roy Mustang's shadow fell over my face as he clapped his white-gloved hands together in applause.

Then, when I least expected it, he smacked me across the head. I fell onto my back and muttered, "Why does everyone keep hitting me today?"

The Flame Alchemist smirked, "Good work but next time don't be so reckless, that was a close call."

"Abel," he called out as he turned and began walking away, "we need clean-up over here."

I squeezed my eyes shut and filled my aching lungs. My side throbbed in pain that radiated throughout my body as my chest rose up and down with each sore breathe I took.

Another shadow fell over me, and I hesitantly opened my eyes.

"Well aren't you a mess."

I looked up to see a tall young man in standard military uniform grinning, with his hand held out toward me. I took it and pulled myself up onto unsteady legs.

"Thanks," I smiled wearily. I scrunched my nose as the chimera snorted angrily, spraying a cloud of hot, stinky breath all over my arm. The man laughed, he was taller than I had originally thought, and lean, with shaggy orange-blonde hair.

His pale, leaf-green eyes were filled with amusement. "Abel Wright, the Breathing Life Alchemist."

_Breathing life? What an unusual state name…_

I quickly shook his hand before slipping mine away and letting it drop to my side, "Skyla Elric, nice to meet you."

His face flickered with surprise when he heard my last name yet he didn't say a thing, instead he turned to the caged chimera with a smile on his face, "Alright my friend, let's see what I can do."

He clapped his hands together and slowly pressed against the iron bars, forcing them slightly apart so that he could reach his arms through. The chimera snorted, it had calmed down but was still frustrated, and watched Abel warily. As he reached out to rest his hand on the chimera's panting hide, I caught a glimpse of the unique transmutation circle that was tattooed in the palm of his hand. Abel closed his eyes, his face full of a deep concentration.

A flash of blinding, bright blue light erupted from the chimera and it let out a pained, pitiful cry. I turned away, not wanting to see the poor, distorted creature as it wriggled to get away.

I don't know how long I stood with my eyes focused on the torn up ground beneath me, maybe three minutes, maybe more. I had spaced out and was brought back to reality by the gasp of an astonished soldier. His mouth hung open foolishly as he stared at the cage, "Y-You're the Breathing Life Alchemist!" The soldier exclaimed, his empty eyes wide with surprise. Abel nodded with a smirk on his face.

"You just separated a chimera, why that's impossible!"

I finally turned to look at what he had done, and sure enough it was no longer a tormented beast. He had made the bars into iron chains and shackled the two animals so that they were constrained and away from one another. The lion was sickly with sunken in eyes and a mangy coat while the gorilla, who was at the prime of his youth, seemed to have very little fight left in his magnificent body.

"Nothing's impossible," I muttered as my lips began to form a smile. I suddenly understood his name. He had given back the freedom and individuality of two helpless creatures…he gave them back their lives.

Abel began chatting up the dumbfounded soldier, explaining that he too, like the man who had originally created the chimera, was a bioalchemist.

"The chimera was poorly constructed so it was fairly easy to…"

I didn't pay attention to the rest of his explanation. I looked around at the soldiers and commanders who scrambled around the destroyed grassy field, trying to reinstate order.

It was dizzying and exciting all at once…I sighed, ignoring the sharp stabbing sensation that ripped through my ragged lungs and the pain that radiated from my side. At the moment I only saw the world before me, and the possibilities that were to come.

Suddenly it didn't matter if I would have to re-take the exam again; I would take it a million times over. I would tolerate another year of ruthless training and even another round with the big, bad chimera.

I found myself slowly growing fonder of the new, strange world that was laid out before me and from that moment on I was determined that I would get my piece of it in the end.


	5. On the Other Side

**Author's note: (Disclaimer: I do not own either the concept or story of Fullmetal Alchemist)**

**I'm sorry, this chapter was very rushed. Ocassionally I will switch to a different character's point of view. **

**I don't think I captured Ed very well but I hope you like it.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Love, AL**

* * *

The faint chirping of hammers as they came down upon nail-infested wood echoed through the streets of Munich. It had been for days. Most people had learned to block out the excessive noise while others couldn't stand it.

"Damnit!"

Edward Elric cried out in surprise and quickly pulled his hand away. He squinted his golden-hazel eyes to better see his bloody finger.

"Big brother, is that you?" A calm, curious voice came from somewhere among the piles of boxes.

"Er, yeah, sorry Al I was just…"

He shook the fat droplets of blood off of his hand and took no notice to the as they splattered onto the concrete floor. A very concerned Alphonse Elric pushed through the jungle of old junk and finally made his way over to his brother.

"You're bleeding."

Edward raised his eyebrows, "What this? Oh, it's nothing, I was looking through some old research papers and got distracted by that damn hammering, then I clipped my finger on one of the files, is all."

Al smirked, "I'm just making sure that you don't end up getting buried under these giant crates."

A small smile broke out across Edward's face as he sat down on one of those wooden crates with a sigh, "You know Al, if I didn't know any better I'd think that was an indirect comment about my height."

Alphonse feigned innocence and kicked a small pebble that had been lying by the heel of his brown leather boot, "I don't have a clue about what you're talking about."

Edward let out a short, stifled laugh and leaned his head back to stare at the plain, cracked ceiling, "Look at us…I feel fifteen again. You should be home with Sophia and the kids…and I should be…"

Alphonse cleared his throat and adjusted the rolled up sleeves of his white button-up shirt while waiting out his brother's silence.

"…I shouldn't be here." Edward finished quietly.

"Do you really think we'll find something in this old warehouse? I know this is the place where the Thule Society opened the gate all those years ago…but I can't help but wonder if they really left any alchemic studies behind."

Edward shrugged his weary shoulders, "when I heard that this place had been turned into a storage facility for confidential reports I thought it would be worth a shot."

Alphonse felt only warm sympathy for his older brother, while Al was far too familiar with the pain of losing loved ones, he couldn't wrap his head around losing one of his own children. The youngest Elric brother had come very close to losing his wife to the cold hands of death, he believed he could cope with the pain over time…but when he tried to imagine a world without the smiling faces of his bright young boys, he just couldn't stand it.

Alphonse placed a comforting hand on his older brother's shoulder, "Let's go home brother, it's getting late. Why don't you come over for some dinner and we'll come back here first thing tomorrow to see what we can find?"

Ed got to his feet with a sad smile on his handsome face, "Thanks Al."

Alphonse titled his head slightly to the side, his amber eyes glowing curiously, "for what?"

The smile on Edward's face had grown, now taking on a more bittersweet look. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pale brown slacks as they began their journey back, and replied quietly, "Just thanks."

* * *

_He slept alone beneath the warm, hand-stitched quilt. The comforting promise of a good night's sleep brought a smile to his lips, until he stretched out his arm, only to feel the cold, empty space beside him. He quickly retracted his hand, having no desire to allow the memories of his deceased lover to seep back into his thoughts. _

_As he began to lose his heavy eyelids he saw a small stream of light coming from beneath his bedroom door. He watched with blurred, sleepy vision as the door slowly drifted open to reveal a young girl standing in the hallway. Her dainty, thin figure shivered, causing the small ringlets of golden hair that fell down to her shoulders to quiver._

_Her hazel-colored eyes were wide with fear, and stood out vibrantly against her tear-streaked face._

"_Skyla?" he sat up immediately, pushing aside the quilt that he had once clung to. "What is it, what's wrong?"_

_The pitter-patter of his daughter's bare feet slapping against the wood as she ran across the room to him rang in his ears. "I-I'm scared," she sniffled and fell into his open arms. He embraced her gently and replied soothingly, "There's nothing to be afraid of, I'm here…I promise to always protect you, Skyla, Daddy will always be here…"_

_As he spoke these words a large, shadowed serpent burst through the floor boards and let out a soft, sinister chuckle. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Edward Elric," the creature's voice was raspy and for some odd reason vaguely familiar. _

_As it stepped further into the light he could see its body was composed of human remains, distorted faces poked out here and there, moaning in agony. His daughter yelped in surprise and he held her tighter, wanting nothing more than to shield her away from the evils of the world. "Daddy!" the young girl yelped as her body began to unravel. She was disintegrating, slipping away from his muscled arms, fading from existence until finally she was gone, and there was only empty air left between his trembling arms. _

_He was frozen in fear as the serpent wriggled closer to him, revealing its mysterious face. _

_It was then, as it moved into the light that he found himself staring into his very own eyes. It laughed-he laughed. His face._

"_I warned you Edward," his voice said smugly, a disturbingly satisfied grin resting on the face that mimicked his, "Never make a promise that you can't keep…."_

Edward shot up out of bed and tried to catch his breath as he stared straight ahead with wide eyes. His heart was beating wildly after such a feverish nightmare.

The pale light of dawn leaked through the un-covered windows, causing everything to appear in shadows of gray. Silently, Edward swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up.

The floor boards creaked with each step he took, out of his room, down the hall, to the left.

And then he stopped. Standing in the doorway of the room that had once belonged to his absent daughter, he froze, a flood of emotions pouring through him. "Goddamnit," he muttered and clenched his fists. He said it again, his voice rising louder. And then again, now yelling the curse at no one in particular.

Pain ripped through him as he stumbled into her room, smashing the vase of dead flowers that stood by her night stand. The vase shattered against the floor and its pieces dispersed across the room.

"Why?" he cried and sunk to his knees, ignoring the pieces of ceramic that sliced into his bare legs.

"Why do you always take away the ones I love?" his voice was ragged, but quieter as he fought back the storm that raged within him.

"Weren't they enough?" he was answered with silence.

"Give her back…" his pain, which he'd masked as anger, was slowly receding. He was no longer harbored the desire to destroy everything in sight. All he was left with was a deep aching within his heart.

He clenched her cold, stale bed sheets and dug his nails into the white linen, "I made a promise…"

"I-" he paused and let his hand lie flat on the sheet. Something felt strange about the bed, like one side was heavier than the other. He slid his hand across the sheet and under the pillow, surprised when he hit something hard.

He pulled out the foreign object, a mixture of confusion and curiosity residing in his sunken eyes.

"What is this?" he asked softly, pulling the book closer to examine it.

He opened the front cover, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the picture that was pasted to the first page. It was of him as young boy, and his brother and father after a fishing trip one evening.

He had all of the pieces to the puzzle and slowly began putting them together. He stared at the picture once again, finally recognizing the book as the one he had kept in his study.

The one book that had accidentally been saved from the fire that he and Al had built after closing the gate on their side of the world.

He remembered the day well. They had decided to burn all books and records of alchemy after the incident that had occurred with the Thule Society…but Edward had forgotten about a certain black, leather-bound book that he had placed in his study. The book continuously slipped his mind as the time went on and the world around him changed.

"It…It's all my fault," he muttered in defeat. "I should have burnt this stupid book, I should have…"

His bare chest shook as he struggled for air. He gripped the book tightly in both hands, thinking of how if it weren't for his own foolish mistake he would still have his little girl safely in his arms.

Confusion swept over him and he didn't know what to feel anymore. He had no room, no energy, for anger or despair, regret, or remorse.

Instead he wiped his mind clear of everything, bowed his head, and cried.


	6. Over the Hill

**Author's note: (Dislcaimer: I do not own either the concept or storyline of Fullmetal Alchemist)**

**This chapter really has no significance with the story :p**

**Recently I realized how big of a Roy Mustang fan I really am so I decided to add this chapter in honor of his...50th birthday!**

**That's right :) I did the math for my story and figured out that if Skyla was born when Ed was twenty, then Mustang would have been roughly around thirty-two when his son, who is only a year older than Ed's daughter, was born. Which means that he was forty-nine in chapter one of this story and it's already been a year...meaning he finally turned fifty. **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

**Love,**

**AL**

_

* * *

_

_Thud. _

"Damnit, there's more?"

I paused in the hallway in Central City's Headquarters and listened to the commotion going on in Lt. Colonel Mustang's office. Hesitantly I walked through the doorway surprised, although I didn't show it, to see so many people.

A slightly chubby man with clean-cut, dark ginger hair leaned against the wall accompanied by a tall, lean man with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth-both dressed in the standard navy blue military uniform.

"Is everything alright in here Lt. Colonel?"

I glanced around the room, Mustang wasn't at his desk or anywhere else for that matter, but I could have sworn that I had heard his voice. On his large, mahogany-stained desk sat an impressive pile of papers-next to which stood another man, this one smaller and thinner with spiked black hair and dark, friendly eyes that lied behind the thick lenses of his wire-framed glasses.

"Who's the cute girl Roy?" The man with the cigarette asked as emitted small wisps of smoke from between his lips.

I stared at this man skeptically, so Mustang was in his office?

Suddenly a rustling noise came from the Lt. Colonel's desk and I turned just in time to see the ridiculously high stack of papers slide to the far left.

"Easy Havoc," he replied boredly, "she's underage."

"All the good ones are," the officer sighed and snuffed out his cigarette with the bottom of his shoe before throwing it into the waste basket.

My jaw dropped in surprise for a second but then I quickly composed myself.

"You were….behind there?" I asked in awe, pointing at the papers that had been hiding Mustang, who sat in his chair with an annoyed grimace planted on his face.

"That's right. After your little stunt on the assessment day I've had nothing but paperwork to file-liability claims, reports on the chimera and its creator, so on so forth."

"Sorry for the inconvenience," I frowned and leaned against a black upholstered chair.

"That's no way to talk to your superior little Elric," Mustang said smugly and sat back in his chair.

"I'm not a dog of the military yet," I smiled sweetly, "so currently you're just the old man of a close friend."

I watched as curiosity began to spark in the eyes of the man as our conversation went on.

"A close friend, huh? And here I thought he'd be bringing you home for dinner any day now."

The Lt. Colonel grabbed a pan and took the first file off of the top of the pile. "Um, excuse me miss, but did he just call you an Elric?" the man with the glasses asked politely, looking genuinely surprised.

"Oh, yes, I'm Skyla Elric, it's nice to meet you," I stepped forward and shook his hand.

The man stared for a second before giving me a friendly smile, "Kain Fuery."

"I'm Jean Havoc," The cigarette man smiled as he and the third person walked over to me.

"Heymans Breda," the last man nodded with a smile.

"You're an Elric?" Havoc asked skeptically, turning to the Lt. Colonel for some answers. Mustang sighed and closed the file he had been reading. "Damnit, this is getting old, do I really have to explain everything?"

The three men nodded and I stood there, slightly regretting that I'd decided to pay him a visit.

"Can you wait to explain until after I've left? I just came in to see what's going on."

Roy Mustang put a hand to his forehead in annoyance, "The Fürer is deciding whether or not you will be admitted into the military as a state alchemist, so for now all we can do is wait. Riza insisted that you stay with us until everything is situated."

I smiled, relieved to have finally gotten an answer, "Great, thank you."

With that I spun around and walked out of his office before anyone had a chance to ask any more questions. I was about three steps down the hall when I crashed into someone else and stumbled back.

I looked up to see a familiar face with black hair covering its dark eyes. With the twitch of his head Rolland flipped his hair out of his eyes and to the side in a very girlish manner, although I wouldn't never actually point that out to him.

"Oh, hey, I didn't see you down there," he teased.

I rolled my eyes and brushed past him, "Your short jokes are getting old."

Rolland turned around and joined me as I walked down the hall, "You just came out of my dad's office alive."

"Brilliant observation," I smiled and picked up my pace. I was in no hurry to have rumors about Rolland and me spreading. I'd barely been around Headquarters for three days and already I had young, nameless soldiers ask me if were 'an item'.

Where the hell did that term come from anyway?

Rolland stopped walked and I took a few steps forward before my curiosity got the best of me. Damn him. I turned around, "Why is that such a big surprise?"

He looked way too happy as he took two steps forward so that we were standing next to one another; he stared whimsically out the window at the rainy military campus and then whispered to me very discreetly, "Today is his fiftieth birthday."

I stared at him skeptically, "Yeah right, there's no way Mustang can be _that _old."

A giant, sinister grin spread across Rolland's face, "Oh yes, he is. He hasn't told anyone that it's his birthday though, and those who do know don't have a clue about how old he's turning so feel free to tell everyone you see today."

"You're evil," I laughed, making a mental note to never tell him a secret.

He shrugged, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Well I've got invitations to give out, so I guess I'll be going."

"Invitations?" I questioned, glancing at his empty hands. "It's an oral invitation for his surprise party, that way my dad can't trace it back to me-oh, and I expect to see you at my place tonight around six, feel free to invite as many people as you want, really, I mean that. The more the merrier!"

He turned around with a big smile on his face just as I was about to tell him that I would have been at his house tonight regardless of the party. I shut my mouth and continued down the hall, deciding that he could just find out later. After all, I had important news for Mischa.

* * *

Roy Mustang sat on the edge of his bed and sighed. He looked down at himself-he wore a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black slacks. The same thing he'd been wearing for most of his life. He rested his hand against his forehead, feeling defeated. Not only had he been ambushed the moment he got home from work by a surprise party but he had also constantly been reminded that he had finally hit the big 5-0 all night.

Outside of his room and down the hall he could hear his wife cheerily say good bye to their final guests before closing the door for the very last time that night. He heard the click of the lock and then footsteps as she moved into the kitchen. Her voice was soft and quieter than usual so that he couldn't hear her actual words.

He waited with his face in his hands as she showed Skyla to the guest room.

He had started to doze off by the time she finally entered their room and shut the door quietly behind her. "You look beat," Riza commented and Roy looked up just in time to see her remove the clip from the back of her head. He watched as her long blonde hair fell seductively down past her collar bone.

For a second he was lost in how beautiful his wife was even after so many years…but then he remembered that she was still a few years younger than him, which thoroughly bruised his ego.

"I should have married an older woman…she would understand the pain of turning fifty," he sighed and shook his head, the depression washing over him once again. An annoyed smirk crossed Riza's face as she pulled her shirt over her head and placed it into the laundry basket.

"Don't you think you're being a bit dramatic?" She asked, kicking off her heels.

"I stand by my previous statement," he muttered.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as his wife walked up to him and turned around abruptly, "Uh…Riza?"

"Unzip me?" she asked as she unclasped her necklace. "Yeah, sure," Mustang suddenly felt foolish for not having guessed that in the first place. His eyes traced the curves and lines of the familiar, faded flame-colored that was tattooed onto her back as he slid the zipper down. In his sullen state of despair he wrapped his muscled arms around her waist as her skirt dropped to the floor.

"Why didn't we ever have any more kids?" Mustang asked in his usual tone, but Riza could tell that something was wrong. She sat on his lap and began to unbutton his shirt as she spoke, "We are happy with the first one."

Mustang raised his eyebrows, "Are we?"

Riza sighed and stood up, she pulled away from him and walked over to her bureau, where she set down her necklace and began to remove the matching earrings that had been a gift from her husband the previous year. "Roy," she warned him sternly.

The Lt. Colonel couldn't help but smirk. He loved the way she said his name, even when she was annoyed. "I'm just remembering back in the day, when the guys would crack jokes about me setting up franchises of children is all-I mean, it's going to be difficult shooting for Furher when I only have one child to support me within the military."

Riza turned to him with her hands on her slender, sculpted hips, "Firstly I recommend that you don't say 'back in the day' if you're trying not to sound old, and secondly it's never to late to have children, or start setting up franchises."

_Although it will be soon..._she thought, not wanting to point out to him that she too was getting older.

He smiled smugly, regaining his superior ego as he hooked the border of her lace embroidered underwear with his index finger and pulled her closer, "Yes, but I wouldn't want to be with any other woman but you."

She smiled and peeled his shirt off of him, tossing it neatly onto the floor, "Well aren't you slick."

Mustang wrapped his arms around her and he planted a passionate kiss on her upturned lips as they both fell back onto their bed. She arched her back closer to him as he began to slowly leave a trail of soft kisses down her neck. He stopped and let his lips linger just above her collar bone before pulling away abruptly to complain into the sheets, "Fifty!"

She sat up and rolled her eyes, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. Riza looked down at him with an annoyed but loving smirk, she leaned in close, pressing up against her husband and whispered in his ear, "Shut up and enjoy your birthday present," before turning out the lights.


	7. Times Are Changing

There were rumors but no one was for certain, there were whispers but everyone figured they had misheard, and then there were increasingly significant signs that no one dared to acknowledge.

Signs that he himself should have recognized.

Roy Mustang sat at his desk with a heavy conscience. His head throbbed dully and he blinked his tired, red-rimmed eyes-he was exhausted from his everything but ordinary birthday surprise and was in no mood to deal with the news he'd just received. Although somewhere in the back of his mind he had known that war was inevitable in a country with a Fürer who lacked proper-or even basic leadership skills.

He half listened to the clicking of heels against the polished floor of Central City Headquarters.

The clicking stopped and he looked up from the opened envelops that were spread across his desk.

In the doorway stood a tall, beautiful blonde with her hair twisted back into a loose bun.

"Something wrong?" Riza Hawkeye asked casually.

He sat there, frozen, contemplating whether to tell his wife or keep it from her until it spread throughout the entire military. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of the silver wedding band that rested on his left hand.

_It's the right thing to do…_he thought while turning his gaze back to her.

With a heavy sigh he stood up from his desk to announce,

"I just got a call from Northern Headquarters…Drachma's soldiers breached Briggs yesterday. The Fürer has just declared war."

* * *

I glanced out the window, frowning at the thick cloud cover that had rested over the city.

"It looks like my frizz isn't going to get any better..." I sighed as I ran my fingers through my unruly hair, trying to force it to lay flat.

"Skyla are you ready yet?"

I jumped and turned to see Rolland standing in the door way with one hand over his mouth to cover the lazy yawn that he was letting out.

"Yeah, give me a second," I tied my hair back in a quick ponytail to hide its frizziness and grabbed the closest pair of shoes.

"Holy crap we're late…my father's going to kill us," Rolland muttered, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as we rushed out the front door.

"Oh no," I corrected him, closing the door behind me, "he's going to kill _you._"

Central City's Headquarters seemed unusually busy. Handfuls of soldiers clad in the standard military uniform marched through the hallways with their guns perched loyally by their sides.

The sound of their heavy footsteps echoed throughout the hallway as I struggled to keep my balance in the thin pair of heels I'd unfortunately grabbed at the last moment.

We slipped into the Lt. Colonel's office and stood quietly by the door.

I recognized Kain Fuery and Jean Havoc standing to the left of Mustang, who sat solemnly at his desk, delivering orders as if he already were the President Fürer. The other men and women that occupied the room were strangers clad in military uniform, looking as though they held some pretty hefty titles beneath their belts. "You're late," Mustang announced in a flat tone, not even bothering to look up from the file that sat on his desk.

Rolland hesitantly opened his mouth to speak but then quickly shut it when his father's piercingly dark eyes turned on him, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce the commanding officer of section Eleven-V," he paused and then casually flitted his gaze in my direction before adding, "Elric leave."

I raised my eyebrows skeptically, a bit shocked from what I'd just heard, "Excuse me, sir?"

Mustang straightened in his seat, "You heard me correctly. You are neither a member of the military nor are you authorized to hear what I am about to say so get out of my office."

I stood my ground for a brief second, staring stubbornly into his dark, cold eyes. As I looked closer I could see the deep-set shadows that lied beneath his firm yet tired eyes and the wrinkles of exhaustion that framed his handsome, in an older man sort of way, face.

No more than a foot or two away from him stood Riza Hawkeye, her hands lying stiffly by her sides while her vigilant auburn eyes scanned the faces of the other officers that littered the room. I exhaled deeply before turning around and in a very professional and hopefully graceful manner I left his office and turned the corner, my heels clicking softly all the way down the hall.

* * *

"Don't eat that."

I suspiciously eyed the yellow ooze that bubbled toxically on Mischa's cafeteria tray.

She wrinkled her fair nose and pushed back the steel tray, "You're right, the food doesn't look quite right today…that's weird, Chef usually whips up something good."

I glanced back at the foreign man who was serving the assembly line, dressed in a white apron and wielding a dented silver ladle, "I think they got a replacement, this guy doesn't look to happy about serving food."

"That's 'cause he's an inmate."

Both Mischa and I turned in our seats to face the newcomer who had decided to join our conversation. He looked like an ordinary soldier dressed in dark navy blue pants and black leather boots. A simple white T-shirt clung to his tanned chest, showing off his scarred, well-muscled arms. He was an older man of forty, or even perhaps fifty.

"Oh yeah?" Mischa leaned in towards the center of the table, intrigue sparking in her opal-colored eyes.

I sighed and rested my elbows against the table as I joined Mischa in leaning towards him. The man nodded, "You girls heard 'bout the war no doubt, hasn't you?"

We both nodded in return. After I'd been subtly-not to mention rudely kicked out of Mustang's office I had wandered down to the common area in search of Mischa, which was when she'd informed me of the hot and current news that buzzed around the entire building. Drachma had finally breached the military's fortress up north.

"Well now all the military leaders are rounding up their troops, preparin' to fight so all of the jobs that had been occupied by soldiers have been handed down to ex-convicts on parole," the man paused and casually pointed to Mischa's abandoned tray of unidentified goo, "You gonna eat that little lady?"

"Help yourself," she shook her head and nudged the tray in his direction.

"Oh! I forgot to tell you, for the minute I actually _was _in the big boss man's office I overheard him call Rolland a commanding officer," I nibbled numbly on a cracker that Mischa had stealthily handed me under the table-one that she had pulled out from her pockets, no doubt.

"Commanding officer of what-that box of free kittens on the corner?" she asked incredulously.

I smirked and nudged her lightly between the ribs, "No of a military section…Eleven-V, I think he called it."

The man that sat across from us burst out laughing, nearly spraying chewed up yellow wads all over the table, "How old's this kid?"

"Eighteen," I replied slowly, curious as to what had caused his bizarre reaction.

"Damn, these bastards don't show no mercy, do they? Eleven-V is a pack of hard ass, good-for-nothing veterans who only get called back into service during emergencies. They gonna tear that boy to shreds."

A sickly sweet smile spread across Mischa's round, pretty face, "You really think so?"

The man chuckled again, "you sure are enthusiastic girlie, I don't suppose you're goin' out on the battle field too…not a sweet lil' thing like you."

"Mmm hmm," Mischa replied simply, the rain had caused her hair to curl and it fell to her shoulders in delicate brown ringlets, the way it framed her face made her appear even more innocent, if that were even possible.

The man slapped his knee in disbelief, "Well I'll be. This country really is run by a crop of devils…sending out young girls to a war zone-but you," he pointed a wrinkled finger in my direction, "You aint a soldier."

"How do you know?" I hadn't intended to sound so surprised.

The man shrugged, "I can sense it. You don't have the personality about you."

"Oh, really?" I raised my eyebrows in disbelief, and Mischa shot me a worried look-a silent plea to drop the conversation.

"No, no. I know a soldier from a mile away. You're something else," he stopped and chewed a forkful of food while looking me over once and then again. I squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze while waiting for him to finish.

"An alchemist! That's what we have here."

"Wow," Mischa's ecstatic blue eyes widened in amusement, "you're good."

The man wrapped his arms across his chest and smiled smugly, "When you been around as long as I have you pick up on things-are you a state alchemist?"

I nodded, biting my lip as I fibbed. He seemed satisfied with that alone and didn't bother to question me on why I wasn't sporting a glimmering silver pocket watch like the other state-certified alchemists.

Suddenly the old, out-dated speakers that were attached to the outer walls of the building emitted a high, squeaking noise followed by the rusty voice of an old woman, "Brigadier General Coleman and Major General Mustang please report to the conference hall."

"Major General Mustang?" I echoed, amused by the announcer's clerical error. That was two ranks higher than his current position.

"He must have been promoted, I hear everyone is being boosted up a rank or two now due to lack of commanding officers," Mischa shrugged, looking unimpressed.

"Well then ladies, I best be going-duty calls," the man stood up with a kind smile on his face.

Mischa and I stood up as well. I shook his leather-thick hand politely, "It was nice meeting you sir."

"The pleasure was all mine," he replied formally before turning away from us.

Mischa linked her arms through mine and led me away from our table, "Do you know what I think?"

"Hmm?" I replied, only half-listening.

"I think that was Ruther Coleman."

I cocked my head slightly to the side in confusion, beckoning for her to elaborate. She nodded furiously, causing her dainty curls to quiver, "he's the Brigadier General."

I narrowed my eyes and glanced back at the man who had accompanied us just moments ago. He had pulled a formal blue jacket over his T-shirt and sure enough, it was embroidered with a great amount of stripes and medals, indicating a more prominent rank. He caught my gaze and winked good-naturedly before pushing past a rowdy bunch of soldiers.

"Hey, Sky, he was poking around a lot about our ages…sort of. It got me thinking," Mischa began, snapping me back to the reality which I had wandered away from, "you haven't turned eighteen yet."

"And?"

"Well legally you can't fight or enlist in the military."

I shrugged it off as we pushed our way out of the cafeteria and into the gloomy court yard. While the rain had ceased the sky was still plastered with overbearing gray clouds.

"I'll find some way around it, but don't worry, it's not like I'm going to let you go out and fight alone. We're in this together-you, me…and maybe even Rolland."

"So you aren't afraid of the war?"

I glanced over at Mischa; she looked so small in her uniform and big black boots. Worry danced on the edges of the youthful face. I shook my head and forced a false, reassuring smile upon my face, "It's going to get bad, and I mean really bad at times. There's no doubt about it, but we're going to make it through this. We all are-as a country. Don't worry. I promise."

_Don't make promises that you can't keep._

Mischa smiled back at me and then pointed excitedly at a pale pink rose bud that was weakly trying to crawl away from the soil and bloom. I nodded happily although I was no longer paying any attention.

Where had that voice come from? It had popped into my head as if it had always been there…or maybe the thought was simply a fragment torn from a faded dream, one that had long been forgotten by subconscious. I pushed the strange voice and even stranger thought out of my mind and went back to focusing on the world that surrounded me.

Although the sky's smoky black clouds showed promise of a great storm and the country was running around in a state of panic while trying to assemble troops to go to war a small notion of hope tugged at the farthest corns of my heart. And I felt as if everything would truly be okay.

Then again…I could be wrong.


	8. When It Rains

It wasn't over whelming; I wasn't drowning in a bloody tide of agony or anything. It was more of a strange discomfort that slowly crept over me. As the day pressed on my throat tightened little by little, my lungs felt trapped as I struggled to inconspicuously take in deep breathes of air at a time.

I stared lazily out of the rain-dappled windows, which quivered every time a wave of thunder rippled across the clouded sky. The meeting in Mustang's office had yet to come to an end and Mischa had been called back to training along with the other new recruits.

With everyone busy, I was left alone, standing in an empty hallway, observing the soggy, gray-tinted gardens that lied on the other side of a thin sheet of glass.

_I have no place here._

I tore my gaze away from the window and looked around at the white-washed walls and the rows of dark mahogany doors that were all tightly shut and locked to prevent anyone from stumbling across any secrets that might be hidden within said rooms.

Within a split second of the Fürer declaring war, everything from the military records to the color of the president's underwear became top secret.

"You look lost."

I suppressed the urge to jump and instead allowed my eyes to slowly flicker to the person who'd suddenly appeared in the hallway. I sure as hell wasn't going to let them think they'd surprised me.

I found myself looking at Abel, the alchemist whom I'd met just days before when the skies were still sunny and the country still sane.

"Yeah, well, there's not much for me to do around here," I replied awkwardly, still secretly amazed by how silently he'd walked up to me, "I'm not actually a part of the military or anything."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, "After a show stopper like that, I thought you'd have a state license for sure by now."

I shrugged and smiled jokingly, "I guess the military here isn't as sharp as it's rumored to be."

He let out a casual laugh, "and I'm guessing that you aren't from around _here_."

"No, the country I came from is pretty far away, you probably haven't even heard of it," I bit my lip, suddenly regretting dozing off during the majority of my teacher's infamous geography lessons.

"You're probably right; I've never even been outside of Ames-" he stopped short as the sound of heavy footsteps carried from down the hall. The once shut doors were beginning to swing open as soldiers poured out of every possible place in the building.

"What's going on?" The question escaped my lips before I had the chance to bite my tongue.

Abel, who looked about as confused as I did, was about to answer when a stout, timid man approached him, "Are you uh, let's see here…" the man trailed off as he read retrieved a crumpled telegram from inside his coat pocket, "ah! Yes, are you Mr. Wright?"

Abel nodded.

"You've been summoned to the war room, it is advised that you go immediately," the man paused yet again to throw a glance in my direction before adding, "And discreetly."

With that, the man scurried back into the sudden flow of traffic.

"Summoned?" he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

I pressed myself closer against the wall as what seemed to be an endless stream of soldiers and secretaries hurried throughout Headquarters.

"Skyla, why the hell are you still here?"

I turned at the sound of Rolland's frustrated tone.

Abel leaned in beside me, his chilled breathe soft against my fervent neck as he whispered, "I forgot to mention that Amestris is also known for the cheerful and friendly demeanor of their citizens."

I fought back a giggle for the sake of Rolland, whose face was beginning to scrunch with wrinkles and worry lines.

"All state alchemists have been called to duty," Rolland stated coldly, his gaze flickering to Abel.

I opened my mouth in protest but Abel shook his head with a casual smile, "No, it's cool, I can take a hint. I'll see you two later."

He stepped into the flow of traffic and was gone within seconds. Slowly, I turned back to Rolland with an innocent smile. "You shouldn't be here," he grumbled, his anger simmering down.

"So I've noticed. Now, what's going on?"

His eyes, the color of a smoker's lung, bore into mine, "Central is under attacked. We don't know how many troops they have, how close they are, or if this is even Drachma, so right now you need to get the hell out of here. Call this number," he pulled a slip of paper from his coat pocket, "a woman will answer. Her name is Elicia Hughes and she's a friend of the family, tell you who you are and she'll come pick you up."

Although my fingers snatched the paper from his and my lips uttered a submissive, "Okay" I had already firmly made up my mind that I would definitely not be leaving. I couldn't leave Mischa…or Rolland…or anyone else. With that, he left me standing alone in a crowded corridor. I shoved the piece of paper into my pocket.

Another bout of thunder ripped across the sky, this time accompanied by a series of gunshots.

The battle had begun.

* * *

In the end, I had given in to my guilt and I called Elicia. Things should have gone well from there but of course, nothing will ever go as planned.

The day pretty much went as follows:

She picks me up; we drive to the train station and ask for the first train out of Central.

There is one leaving now.

We'll take tickets for that, please.

She boards the train, I run to the bathroom-there's a line.

When I return the train has departed with Elicia and the others who were traveling with us. By this time the station is being arraigned by Drachman soldiers as the rest of the screaming city burns to the ground.

It was ineffable. The horror and destruction that played out before my eyes. Up until that battle I was fairly confident in Amestris' military prowess but that was…pure defeat.

_Massacre. _

Flames engulfed small shops thrusted thick plumes of black smoke into the humid air as civilians fled in terror. The Drachman soldiers had come with such speed and force that the city hadn't been able to evacuate. I peered out from behind a crumbling wall, the smoke deep in my lungs. Our troops were scattered in small clumps throughout the city. There weren't many left and I didn't recognize the ones I did see.

The sound of a gun loading echoed in my ears like church bells on a Sunday morning and I turned to find what the soldier was aiming at.

A young girl stood alone, trembling in a stained, ragged dress, her eyes deep-set with fear. The girl's tear-streaked face was dappled with blood as she clutched the skirt of a woman who lied faced down in the street.

My heart stopped. No.

I scrambled from behind the wall and dove for her as he pulled the trigger.

There were voices but no words as I wrapped my arms around her and we tumbled over the body of her dead mother. The girl lets out a surprised cry. Pain radiates from my shoulder.

The street was cold against my skin, slick with sweat. More voices, more noises. The girl clung to me in terror and refused to let go, she curled up against my stomach. My shoulder hurts.

My vision was blurred and I could barely make out faces above us. Blue uniforms, gray uniforms, all black boots. A woman cried out, her face familiar. Guns are loaded.

The lights sway and bend and blur.

One gunshot, two gunshots, a whole round. I covered the girl's ears and hold her tighter. Her eyes are squeezed shut as she quivered in fear.

A body sailed to the ground like a stone beside us. It was a woman. She was beautiful, in a delicate sort of way. My shoulder hurts. A thin line of blood trickled from her parted lips and I stared into her glossy opal-colored eyes.

She coughed, "So much for that hair salon."

My eyes welled with tears as I realized I was witnessing the death of my best friend. There were more voices.

"No," I chocked, disbelief spreading through me faster than a wild fire, "don't say that. You-"

A sad smile crossed her face, "N-Never look back and…"

Another round was fired. Her eyes closed.

Tears spilled down my cheeks and onto the cold stone. I wanted to scream, to scramble up and get her help, to bring back the life that once sparked happily beneath her eyes. But the little girl was still shaking in my arms. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move.

I could no longer see the black boots of the soldiers. It was just the two of us, sobbing in a street littered with bodies and the noises of despair, having been left to die.


	9. Melancholy Storms

A monstrous storm had blown its way over to the city of Munich, and the city had had nothing but black skies and rain-soaked streets for the past three days. Alphonse Elric stood in the middle of his living room with a frown, watching his distant older brother stare out the rain-dappled window with stoic eyes as the noise of his wife's persistent coughing and shallow breathing echoed down the hall.

_I'm losing everyone…._Alphonse thought with a sigh, his dark golden eyes warm with a mixture of sympathy and sorrow. The front door burst open just as a nasty bought of thunder rattled the little house.

He glanced up to see his two young boys, shivering and dripping in the doorway with exuberant smiles plastered on their rain-streaked faces. The boys tossed their bags aside and shut the door, panting from their close race home through the pouring rain.

"Hey dad," his eldest son, Marcoh, greeted him with a smile while shaking out his soaking blond hair.

Alphonse returned the smile, "Hey boys."

He patted Marcoh on the head while the youngest, Hugh, gave him an enthusiastic hug, only pulling away to excitedly inform his father of the adventures he and his brother had had on their way home from school.

"That sounds great, Hugh. So what'd you guys learn today?"

Hugh plopped down on a chair, stripping off his wet coat and shoes, "Well, Francis was telling me that it's impossible to go into space but I told him that's not right because you work with rockets and it is too possible and…"

Alphonse smiled and nodded, wandering off from his son's story only to glance at Marcoh. He had fished a water-logged apple out of his bag to eat, but instead stared at his uncle while turning the apple over in his hand repeatedly. Marcoh looked much more like his mother, Sophia, with olive-green eyes and shaggy, pale blond hair while Hugh had his father's slightly darker hair and darker golden eyes with a pale green undertone.

"Is Uncle Edward okay?"

Hugh turned curiously to his uncle, as if he hadn't known that he was sitting there until his brother had asked that question.

Alphonse looked over at his older brother once again…his eyes hadn't left from the window, not even when the boys came bursting through the door.

"He's just a little distracted…listen boys, why don't you go see your mother? I know that would make her really happy."

Their faces lit up with happiness and the two brothers nodded before wandering down the hall together, in search of their sickly mother.

_This isn't how it was supposed to be…_Alphonse thought with a sigh before crossing the room over to Edward. "Big brother?" although it was still the same Alphonse Elric, his voice had lost its high, innocent tone to be replaced by that of a gentle yet hardened man.

'"Hey Al," Edward whispered, his eyes never leaving the gray, rainy atmosphere of the outside world.

Al sat down silently beside his brother, trying t get over the shock of how much time had passed. They weren't old, no…not yet, but they were far from the children they'd been when their journey had first begun. Pale, barely visible, stubble dotted Edward's chin and upper jaw and slight creases had formed on his forehead where they had never existed before-although they were really only visible when one would squint and stare.

"We were so close to the sun," Edward murmured, not only looking but also sounding as distant and far away as ever. Alphonse placed a hand on his older brother's shoulder, "yeah. I know."

Alphonse leaned in closer, in hope that his words of encouragement would actually penetrate his brother's thick skull for once, "but the sun has shattered-there's nothing left but pieces…and now we're in the dark, and we've fallen down. I'm not going to deny it-I went through a bad time too, I lost sight of what's important as well but I can see clearly again, Ed. I'm standing up now; ready to fix the sun…but I can't do it alone. Let me help you up. Stop wallowing and do something about it. You have legs, so get up and use them."

For the first time since the rain had begun, Edward looked away from the window and into his brother's bright, determined eyes. A small smile crossed his lips as he pulled his brother into an unexpected hug, "thanks, Al."

Alphonse smiled as he pulled away, "Hey, someone's got to be there to keep you in check."

"But…I was thinking, Al…say that we do reopen the gate. Are we supposed to bring…Skyla…back here or…?"

Alphonse sighed, finishing his brother's sentence, "or do we go back to Amestris?"

"This isn't our home, but it is theirs," Edward nodded down the hall to where Al's wife and sons were chatting quietly, "and we can't just take them away from that."

He nodded, "I know…but," Alphonse paused, taking a moment to look out at the rain before turning back to Edward, "I think I have a plan."


	10. The Day After Tomorrow

**Author's Note: (****Disclaimer: I do not own either the concept or storyline of FMA)**

**Wow, I haven't posted in months…thank you so much (!) to everyone who reads the story, and I'm so sorry that I haven't updated since last year. **

**I'm kind of sad…I had the next four or five chapters of this written out but then a virus wiped my computer clean :( ****Oh well, life goes on.**

**Oh! And to all those who don't know what the Kristallnacht is, it was an incident in the 1940's (it might have been the really late 1930's) where the Nazi party (and sympathizers) attacked and destroyed many Jewish synagogues. **

**Thanks for reading and again, I apologize for such a delay in updates!**

**Love, AL**

**P.S. I promise that there is going to be EdxWin very soon! It's a little difficult to incorporate into the story right now, since they are still in different worlds but I absolutely love them together and am going to lead up to their reunion in the following chapters.**

* * *

I remember the Night of Broken Glass, the Kristallnacht. My father had taken me on a picnic early that afternoon and I had begged for us to stay until dark so that we could watch the stars. The violence was already in full swing as we walked back to our apartment in the city. Shrill screams dispersed high into the night sky like the plumes of smoke which stung my sleep-ridden irises.

The men destroying the synagogues left us alone; there was no doubt that we were Aryan. Despite this, my father was still arrested by the end of the night. He had been caught trying to put out the flames as well as save a man from being beaten by the unruly mob.

I watched with wide eyes, a terrified child, as they beat him until his coat was stained red. My uncle came to get me at the station later that night. I remember the tears in my baby cousins' eyes as they cast their gazes upon me-scared and shaking and covered in my father's blood.

I was but a toddler when the Second World War was being put into motion. The universal sorrow and chaos which followed was my childhood. I was sympathetic, although not shocked, when my teacher first taught me the history of the Ishablan War. It was a truly terrible thing, but I had witnessed something similar before.

No world can escape the throes of war. But save that fateful night in Germany, I was only ever a spectator of war-never truly a victim. Maybe that's why this time was so different, why the world became such an obscure haze.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" some words, and then a gentle knock. Or maybe the knock came first. I opened my eyes, nearly blinded by the sterile white sheen of the hospital room.

My attempt at sitting up was feeble and I was soothed back down by whoever was standing in the doorway. "Don't get up," they told me softly, approaching the bed. With each step, the blurred features of their face became clearer. Although my vision was getting better, all things distant still appeared as shapes to me.

"That's quite the battle wound."

Immediately, I forced myself upright, causing pain to shoot up my arm and across the front half of my chest. An arm adjusted the pillows behind me so that I could sit up comfortably. "Thanks," I gasped while trying, and failing, to form a smile.

I could see my visitor clearly now. A small but kind smile rested on Abel's friendly face as he slipped his arm out from under me. "I thought I'd be the first to congratulate you."

"Huh? On what?"

He slipped his hands into the navy blue pockets of his military pants, the silver chain of his stop watch twitching slightly. "You haven't been told? That makes sense…considering everything that's happened…" he murmured.

"What, what it is it?"

"You're a state alchemist now."

I was tired of feigning excitement. I glanced down at my free hand, resting in my lap and replied with a quiet, "Yeah, I heard."

Before he could reply, I glanced up at him with a small smile, "thank you."

Although his gaze was smothered in sympathy, I refused to break away from his stare. I decided that I would accept the sympathy just this once. That for the first time since my admittance, I would act like a normal patient in a normal situation with a normal gun-shot wound.

"So…how's the shoulder?"

"I've never been shot before," a small laugh escaped me; "I can't say that it wasn't an interesting experience."

Our eyes both landed on the layers of gauze covering my shoulder and the dark blue sling that suspended my left arm. "My concussion was bad either, so I'll be released soon."

"That's good to hear." he smiled.

I decided not to tell him the other news-what they'd discovered about my body or about the new scar between my small breasts, a puffy red line that stretched neatly down to the peak of my rib cage. When I first came into their world, Mustang had muttered something about a miracle-that I was lucky not to have lost any part of me when I went through the gate. I hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now I couldn't push that moment from my mind.

I had only been awake for a few hours when the doctor told me…he'd looked over my x-rays and informed us of what he'd found…

"_You're missing a lung…I investigated this when you began to cough up blood after we removed the bullet. One of the blood vessels that used to connect your two lungs together was leaking into the one that remains and your body was forcing itself to cough the blood out in order to keep itself from drowning. We had to operate immediately or the blood flow would have become too prominent for you to handle…"_

I didn't listen as he explained the procedure that they had preformed.

I twitched, startled, as Abel's hand brought me back from thought. His fingers lightly grazed the crown of my forehead-brushing a couple of stray strands of hair to the side. "Sorry," he murmured, pulling his hand away from me. Before I could respond, three figures crowded the doorway.

I hadn't noticed before, but the hall outside my room was busy with nurses and frantic visitors. "What's going on?" with an air of solemnity, Abel turned to the figures.

One began to speak, and I recognized her voice at once.

"The hospital is being evacuated." There was no need for Riza to explain. Drachma's soldiers had been stationed in the city ever since the attack, although they had left the hospital untouched. Everyone knew they would eventually come to occupy the hospital as well, but no one had any clue as to when. Finally, the time had come.

My throat tightened and I cringed at what was to come-I knew this feeling. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to prevent the tears that were building up. I could hear a pair of boots against the tile and opened my eyes as curiosity got the best of me. There was a significant collection of water now in the corner of my eyes and I knew with one more blink, I'd be done for.

Rolland was stepping forward into the room but was stopped by his mother, whose hand rested lightly on his shoulder. "You," she said, turning to the third figure-I recognized her to be the raven-haired woman from the alchemist exam, "go help evacuate the other patients."

Then, addressing Abel, "That goes for you too."

Although hesitant, they both nodded. With a small flick of his hand, Abel mouthed a 'goodbye' before strolling out of the room with the other girl. "Rolland," Riza's voice was gentle as I tried to discreetly wipe the first tears from my cheeks, "find Alina and bring her to the station. We'll be waiting for you there."

"Don't you-" Rolland stopped mid-sentence after a stern glance from his mother.

I was unable to fight it any longer, and broke out into sobs as he turned the corner. Riza sat down on the edge of the bed beside me with a stable arm gently draped just below my shoulders. It was too much. I was tired, so very tired.

With everything that happened…Mischa and the little girl and the alchemist exams…my throbbing new scar…it was too much. The weight of my head became too overwhelming and I allowed it to fall against Riza's chest. Snot snaked down the ridge of my upper lip and, in an attempt to draw it back into my nose, I sniffled so hard my brain hurt.

My face was wet with relentless tears as I sobbed like the child I'd been repressing inside of me for a little less than two years. I didn't have to say a word.

Riza wrapped her other arm around me and with great care, pulled me in close. Her slender fingers ran through my matted, sweat-stiffened hair and in the moment she murmured a mere five words:

"It's going to be okay."


	11. Back to the Country

The bump and sway of the carriage as it climbed over each stone on the unpaved road was soothing, like a familiar lullaby as the depths of sleep began pulling me into its softly spun web. The back wheel then caught some kind of large rock and jounced the carriage, causing my head to fly up and smack down hard on Rolland's unsuspecting shoulder.

My eyes flew open as his squeezed shut in pain.

"I'm so sorry!" I whispered sleepily, exhaustion numbing all pain that the rickety road inflicted upon my healing shoulder. My eyes were dry and sore after so much crying and there was very little I wouldn't give for a long, hot bath.

"God, you have a hard head." I could barely see the outline of his sleepy, smirking face through the darkness.

I smiled and was about to lean my head against his shoulder once more, but then thought better of it and sat upright. Most railways had been shut down, and the few trains that were still operating were full of Drachma soldiers that were exported from Central to be stationed in different parts of the country.

Which is why we were being smuggled into the country in a vegetable wagon-we had to cram into a hidden compartment (almost like a false bottom) beneath a scarce layer of nearly rotten turnips. Charming, I know. Beside me, Rolland groaned quietly, "I swear I'm never going to be able to unbend my legs again."

I giggled softly, and pulled my legs in closer to my chest in an attempt to give him more room. To my right, Alina was fast asleep with her head gently bobbing against my knees. I stroked her short black hair with great sadness. It was hard to imagine that she was the same terrified child that I saved just two days ago-the poor girl who was forced to watch her mother die.

"Has she said anything to you?" Rolland whispered and I blinked in surprise-his face was closer to mine than I had expected. "No," I shook my head, brushing a strand of hair away from her mouth, "not since she told us her name."

"Poor kid."

"Yeah," I murmured, "I know."

Mustang mumbled an incoherent bit in his sleep and my eyes flickered over to them. He had one arm protectively wrapped around his wife, who was asleep across his chest. I'd learned that the woman from the hospital with the short dark hair was named Ava. She was wedged between Mustang and Rolland, her arms and legs wound up tight as if she were afraid of her body touching theirs.

"What about you?"

"Huh?"

Rolland shifted against the wall, "Are you alright?"

"I will be," I replied softly. I titled my head, about to rest it on his shoulder once again, when I noticed that Ava's head had bobbed to the side and now occupied his other shoulder (something he seemed to be oblivious to).

Something sparked somewhere inside of me-something that, in that moment, told me to stop. That little voice which prevents you from getting close to anyone-a kind of natural self-defense when there is even the slightest possibility that the other person might break your heart.

And so I straightened and turned my gaze back to Alina, running my fingers through her thin hair as the rhythm of the wheels gently lulled me back to sleep.

* * *

It wasn't until we got to Resembol that I realized how much time had really passed.

_It's almost been a year and a half…_

I took in a deep breath, my lungs, er…lung, filling with crisp morning air as we stretched out our aching limbs. The vast blue sky above our heads was dotted with mere wisps of what were once large, treacherous storm clouds.

"Have a nice trip?"

"Winry!" I smiled as she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling away in surprise but a heartbeat later.

"What's wrong?" Riza asked, coming to greet her.

"Who's this?" her kind blue eyes rested on Alina. I hadn't realized that her arms had been wrapped around my leg, her bitten-down nails digging timidly into my skin. When Winry's eyes flickered back to me, they landed on the dark blue sling around my arm. And then, as if truly seeing us for the first time, she studied the scratches and bruises and bandage-covered patches that marked us all.

She looked over at the carriage and then narrowed her eyes, "What happened? What's going on?"

Mustang nodded to the man who'd driven us and with that he whipped the reigns, the warped wooden wheels leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. He then took a step forward and sighed, "Let's walk back to your place instead, we have a lot to explain."

* * *

The Rockbell residence was just as I remembered. I closed my eyes and stood in the steamy bathroom for one more moment before opening the door. Immediately, I was hit with a blast of cold air from the hall.

"Is no place sacred?"

"Huh?" I turned to see Rolland leaning against the wall in dark pants and a plain white T-shirt, his black hair unruly and dripping.

"Everywhere we go you hog the bathroom!"

"Do not!" I frowned, rubbing my hair dry with a towel. "Why is your…" I was about to question how he had managed to be so clean when both bathrooms had been taken, but then it hit me. My face broke out into a bright smile as I pointed childishly at him, "No! You were really so impatient that you showered outside?"

"I don't like being dirty and the wagon was so gross!"

I laughed, hanging the towel on a hook behind the door.

"It's not funny!" he scowled.

"You're such a girl," I giggled, beginning to follow the enticing smell of something warm and edible. "Oh!" I turned back to him after a few steps, "where's Alina?"

"I think she's been in the guest room since we first got here, b-" his casual tone was interrupted but a quiet, feminine cough. The two of us glanced, unsuspecting at first, down the hall only to be struck by surprise.

It took me a moment to pick my jaw up from off of the floor. Rolland stood frozen, staring as if she were a work of art. Ava stood before us, clad in the world's smallest towel. Her sleek black hair clung to her flustered, blushing face. I had never seen her in anything but a military uniform, her hair wound back in a tight bun. This is probably why I was nearly catatonic when she stood before us-nothing but breasts and legs and water droplets sliding down her tanned frame.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think of this beforehand but…I don't have any spare clothes, would I maybe be able to borrow some until I came wash my uniform?" her voice was much higher and softer (kind of like fluff) than I remembered it.

"Um, yeah, sure, I…" I took a deep breath and composed myself, "let's go down to the guest room and we'll see what we can find."

"Thank you." She smiled, looking genuinely grateful. I cringed as she turned around and trotted down the hall, the ample curves of her butt swaying with each step. I elbowed Rolland in the ribs as I passed by, causing him to jump out of his fantasy state.

"What?" he grumbled, sorely rubbing where I'd hit him.

"Down, boy."

He threw me a look before bumping passed me as we went our separate ways.

Self-esteem had never really been a problem for me. It wasn't that I was conceited, I just never cared. As far as I was concerned, we are who we are, why fuss over something we're not? But simply being in the presence of Ava was causing me to doubt my image-philosophy of seventeen years.

When we got into the guest room, Alina was sitting dutifully on the bed, staring at the wooden floor. When she glanced up, her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Oh, sweetie," I bit my lip, having forgotten that she was in here, "why don't you go downstairs and help Winry with lunch?"

She was rigid, her mauve-colored eyes gazing at me with uncertainty. Ava stood shivering behind me. Alina held out her hand and I took a few steps closer, still slightly confused. She beckoned me to come closer and soon I was kneeling beside the bed as she brushed my damp hair aside and whispered into my ear, "I can't go downstairs."

"And why is that?" I asked, purely out of curiosity. She kept her hand up, covering the small space between her lips and my ear, "They won't like me. "

"Of course they'll like you." I smiled, hoping to somehow boost her impaired morale.

She shook her head, "No, no, when I was in school there was this girl and she was all alone and Minna said…Minna said that no one likes girls who don't have mommies."

Excess water glistened in her eyes although no real tears formed. She hopped up off of the bed and stood in front of me so that we were face to face. Still trying to get over the initial shock of her confession, I pulled her into a slightly awkward one-armed hug. "Sweetheart," I sighed as she squeezed her small arms tightly around my torso, "I know that we're strangers, but I need you to know that under no circumstances is that ever true. You are so special, don't let anyone try and tell you that you are not liked-or loved, even!"

She nodded and sniffled quietly, "but…but I can't cook."

I let out a small laugh and pulled away slightly, "It's a good thing that you've got the best chefs waiting downstairs to teach you how."

A small smiled crossed her face, "okay."

Alina, the happiest (although still fairly gloomy) I'd ever seen her, shuffled out of the room and closed the door behind her. I fell back onto the floor and leaned against the bed with a sigh. Only to remember, upon opening my eyes, that Ava was shivering in the corner, her towel soaked and dripping water onto the floor.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" my eyes grew wide and as if upon instinct, my hand flew up to cover my mouth.

"It is fine," she smiled, "that poor girl…"

"Yeah." I nodded and hoisted myself up onto my feet so that I could rummage through the closet for bits and pieces.

"You two seem very close, are you related?"

"No," I replied softly, "I saved her just last week…when Drachma invaded…her mother was killed on the spot."

Ava gasped, "That's terrible!"

"That's war." I was even surprised by how dark the sounded coming from my lips but it rang true all the same. The closet was beyond eclectic, ranging from Winry's baby booties to Pinako's grease-stained aprons. At the far end was a small basket where I kept my own clothes-a couple of things I'd accidentally left behind when visiting for a few days during my alchemy training.

"Um, what sizes are you?"

Ava plopped down on the bed, looking far too comfortable with this situation. "…because I think this will fit but I don't think I have a bra for you…"

I tossed her a thong, which she studied for a moment before throwing the towel to the floor and standing up to slip it on. My eyes were suddenly glued to the clothes on the floor of the closet.

"Fits like a glove," she smiled and I couldn't help but feel like I was the only one who thought of this as weird. "I'm a 36C," she stated and I could hear the springs of the bed squeal as she sat back down.

I could feel the color draining from my face. I glanced at my remaining A-cup bra that was half buried under a night gown and tried to laugh it off, "I definitely don't have that size…but I can check with Winry to see if she does."

"Oh, no! It's fine, I don't want to be an inconvenience, I just won't wear one."

"Of course not," I muttered, hating myself for feeling so cynical. I tossed a shirt and pants over my shoulder and stood up. Waiting until she put them on to turn around. "So," I began, "are you a state alchemist? I saw you at the exams…"

"Right! That was you! I remember because you were the youngest and that creep of a bioalchemist was amazed that you were so young."

I laughed uneasily, "Right, the young one…that's me."

"Of course because of that terrible accident they told me they 'were unable to properly assess my abilities' and that I would have to come back." I could hear the disappointment in her voice as she zipped up her pants.

"I'm sorry to hear that, so you're just a member of the military?"

"Mmmhmm," she replied before quickly changing the subject, "so that boy, Rolland? You two sure seem close."

"We're friends." I shrugged, turning around just as she was pulling the shirt down over her stomach. "Good, I thought so," she said with a smile, swaying to get a good look at herself in the mirror. I raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Oh," she let out a small laugh, looking slightly embarrassed, "I just meant that it would be weird since you're so young."

"We're only a year apart," I commented lamely.

"But don't you think he's…such a stud?" her eyes were aglow with admiration and I had to fight back the giggles that were quickly rising in my throat.

"Rolland? A stud?" I sounded a bit too incredulous.

"Well, yeah. First, he's so hot and second, he's accomplished, I mean really, it his first year in the military and already he's heading his own sector?" Never before had I heard what someone else in the military thought of Rolland or even what I thought of him…he had always…just been there.

"And his father is obviously a candidate for Fürer when the times comes-a good family is always a must when husband hunting."

"When what?"

"Husband hunting," she repeated casually, "it's what most military women call it. We look around for a suitable man to start a family with. The military is nice and all but it isn't a proper future for a lady and we're not getting any younger. You better start looking as well, just to be prepared."

"How old are you?" my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Ava looked old enough to buy a drink but too young to plan play dates. "Twenty." She smiled, adjusting the hem of her shirt.

"Huh," I murmured, taking a moment to glance in the mirror as well. And just like that, my self-doubt returned. I stole a glance at Ava and then peered back at the mirror and then, with a sigh, realized our one big difference-she was a woman.

Even in baggy cargo pants and a wrinkled orange shirt she had curves. She was tall and slender, her black hair fell neat and straight just above her shoulders and framed her luminous eyes. And then there was me, in a pair of black shorts and a loose red sweater-short with knobby knees and my arm stuck bent in a sling. My fair hair was long and unruly and had more split ends than I ever cared to admit-and in no way did it frame or illuminate or do anything to my slightly golden, hazel eyes.

I was just a child…the young one, that's me.

I blinked in surprise as knuckles lightly rapped against the door.

"Hey," Rolland peeked into the room without a response from either of us, "lunch is ready."

"Great." Ava smiled and brushed past me so enthusiastically that she nearly lost her balance. "Careful," Rolland warned, placing a hand on her back to support her.

"The floor is a bit slippery is all." She grabbed his arm as if for stability and tugged him down the hall. I plucked her tiny, discarded towel from the floor and threw it into the laundry bin with a sigh, "it's going to be a very long day."


	12. The Woes of the World

I was ten when Cornelius Steinbeck asked me to be his girlfriend. Cornelius was a very slightly person-he was slightly shorter and slightly more chubby and slightly smarter than all of the other boys and was deemed an outcast in return. There wasn't a single person, student or staff, who didn't call him 'Corny'. But he was sweet and when you're ten, that's all that really matters.

At first my father threw a fit, he grumbled and pouted until finally my uncle talked some sense into him and he allowed me to stay in my quasi-relationship and walk around town with Corny to my heart's content (although really, I would have dropped that boy in a heartbeat if my father had actually told me to do so). (Anyway) But never before had I felt like this. Not even when Corny began passing secret love notes to Melina Tripp and eventually left me to accompany her home from school instead.

At the time, I hadn't been bothered. There were a lot of things, I noticed, that were suddenly bothering me although they never did in the past. And this was definitely one of them. Rolland and Ava sat across the table from me and Alina, gazing deeply into each other's eyes.

"I'm so sorry to hear about Pinako," Riza was saying gently, her fingers wrapped around the glass of water on the table in front of her. Winry nodded, "Thank you, I'm sure she'll be awake by the time we're through if you would like to see her."

I nodded in sympathy and then diverted my eyes down, staring hard at my plate. Mustang was asking about what the doctor had said-about things such as the medicine she was taking and how long he expected her cold to last.

"It's only a case of the flu," Winry was saying, "but it's hard at her age…"

Beside me, Alina nibbled contently on the sandwich that, as she pointed out several times when we sat down to eat, she had helped them make. It was good to see her ease out of her shell. I continued to gaze at my food, my mind flooded with thought. Thoughts of my father and uncle-the family I had left behind what seemed like so long ago and the family I had developed here, Mischa and…

Ava leaned in close and murmured something, causing Rolland to laugh good-naturedly.

I froze, my heart growing spastic. It had been months since I had heard him laugh like that. Suddenly I didn't want to eat, or think, or even be seated in the same room as another person. I stood up and pushed in my chair, hoping to maintain my composure.

"Excuse me," I said quietly and took my first few steps out of the room.

"Where are you going?" I didn't look back to see who had asked but rather slipped on a pair of shoes and stepped out into the evening air.

"I'm going to see my family," I called back into the house one last time, the front door clicking shut behind me.

* * *

"Hey Dad," I murmured as my fingers gently skimmed the top of two rectangular stones, "It's been a while."

I squatted down in front of the headstones, studying every little detail. These strangers in the earth, they were my grandparents-little pieces of me which I never knew. The fingers of my good arm traced the etching in the stone-down the E and then curved with the L.

"A friend of mine died just last week…she was my best friend."

I moved on to the R and let myself linger on the I for a moment before rounding off the name at the C.

"You would have liked her." a sad smile crossed my face as the breeze began to pick up, causing my hair to spill over my shoulders.

"I've been here so long, yet I'm still just a stranger…but I don't miss the other world, not really, only you and Uncle Al and Aunt Sophia and the boys…"

Above me, a chipper songbird called out into the open air. It sat alone on the massive oak that was shedding its leaves onto the graves I sat beside.

"And I've seen so many things…" a small laugh escaped my quivering lips, "I don't think you'd believe me if I told you…I don't think you'd approve."

I turned my face up to the sky and gazed thoughtfully at the sinking sun. "I wonder," I began while watching the pale blue of the afternoon fade to red, "Am I the person…that you wanted me to be?"

I kept my eyes on the sun despite the familiar sound of footsteps through the grass.

"Winry thought that you would be here."

"These people," I nodded to the headstones, "they're my family-the closest biological thing connecting my father to this world…I know it's silly…but I thought…I thought that maybe if I spoke to them…that he could hear me too."

"It's not silly," Rolland replied with his hands buried deep in the pockets of his black coat.

I pushed myself off of the ground with one hand and stumbled to my feet. There were no stinging tears, no butterflies upturning chaos in my stomach, not one thing. I felt light…and empty.

"So the way you reacted earlier…that was weird." The wind swept his charcoal-colored hair to the left of his forehead as we stood facing one another.

"Yeah... I'm really sorry…I don't know what happened back there," I smiled, collecting my own frivolous hair and gathering it on one side of my shoulder. I bit my lip with uncertainty, "It's just…lately I wonder if I truly belong to either world…I mean, I can never keep anyone I care about around for long. I'm beginning to feel like I'm one of those people who never truly has a place; they just wander in and out of everyone else's lives-maybe I'm just another familiar face in a crowd."

My gaze wandered his way and suddenly I was trapped by his soulful, obsidian eyes. He fished his hand out from his pocket and offered it to me. I took it and his fingers slid into place with mine.

"Come on," he began with a slight tug of my hand and a small nod toward the familiar dwelling that rested just beyond the horizon, "let's go home."


	13. Moments to Memories

_I wonder when it is exactly that a moment becomes a memory…memories are so gentle-as fragile as the blanket of ice which covers the ground. It's cold outside but oh-so-warm in here, in these arms. For the first time in days the snow became tired of falling and the clouds wandered west, leaving the night sky clear and crisp and shining. _

_Our place, our home, is completely dark save the light of the moon and the stars that filters through the window and focuses upon us, and us only. "Skyla," she whispers, "Skyla…" this stranger hums, rocking back and forth in the wooden chair with me draped across her lap like a child's doll. _

_She is beautiful-her voice and her eyes and the curve of her lips when she murmurs my name. But she is sad. Her bright blue eyes glisten with unformed tears as she gazes down upon me. I don't know why she's sad or who she is, but she's gentle…just like a memory._

"_Why are you sad?" I ask her, "Why do you cry?"_

_My tiny fingers find her cheek and wipe a falling tear away. This makes them fall harder and soon they spill past her chin and drip lightly onto my arms. She doesn't sniffle or so-there is nothing more than the tremble of her lip and the water slipping from her eyes. _

_I touch her hair, her golden hair-it's just like mine. _

"_I love you," she murmurs, "I love you so much."_

"_Please don't be sad." I wipe away another tear. Her arms tighten around me, only slightly, but still they tighten all the same. "I'm sorry…that I can't be a part of your life…but I want you to know that I will always love you, even when I am gone."_

"_Don't go, you don't have to go."_

_This stranger is oddly familiar, as if I've seen her in a dream. She smells of those roses that grow in the bright sunshine of a summer day-a smell I feel that I've known since before my memory begins. _

"_I do…I'm not…I'm not the one he wants. I love him so much," she whispers, grazing my forehead with the tips of her fingers, "but I'll never be the one he truly loves…"_

"…_my father?"_

"_Yes," she answers solemnly, staring off into the night sky as we rock together._

_In that moment, it dawns on me. That this woman whose voice is but a fading lullaby is more than a stranger-she is a part of me. I look back up at her beautiful blue eyes and her beautiful blonde hair the beautiful way in which her lips curve when she utters my name. And I wipe a stray tear from her cheek as she whispers one last time, "I will always love you."_

_This stranger is my mother._

"Skyla?"

I can never seem to remember where I am when I open my eyes and emerge from the dark depths of wherever sleep takes you. I blinked once, and then twice, trying to adjust to the harsh light around me.

"Skyla?"

I sat up and blinked again, slowly this time. Something wasn't right.

"Are you okay?"

I was hearing that voice again-the voice from the dream, the voice of my mother.

I glanced around the room at the plain white walls and wooden floor. A desk was cluttered with silver nuts and bolts and wires, the chair beside it empty. I finally focused on the figure that stood before me and I shook my head, clearly still delusional.

I was gazing into the same blue eyes of the woman in my dream-with the same blonde hair and the same curving lips…

"Winry?" I muttered, wiping my eyes in an attempt to make sense of things.

"Oh, thank goodness you're awake," she sighed and plopped down onto her chair. "You kept muttering in your sleep, but I suppose that shouldn't surprise me, Ed used to do that all the time when we were kids."

"How did I get here?" Confused, I peered beneath the blanket that covered me-I was still in the same sweater and shorts that I had been wearing earlier. I twisted to see that I had been lying flat on the couch beside Winry's work station.

"You don't remember? Huh, you must have been exhausted…you passed out on the couch when you and Rolland got home."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Rolland…right. I moaned and fell back down onto the couch, wincing slightly as a sharp, albeit short, pain ran from my shoulder and down my arm. We both remained silent for a moment, digesting the long, eventful day.

"Hey, Winry?" my voice was quiet.

"Hmm?" I could hear her tinkering with something metal.

"…You've never…been to my world, have you?"

I sat up once again, carefully this time, and studied her solemn features. "Oh, um, sorry to interrupt," Ava stood at the bottom of the stairs, her short hair pulled back into a loose bun, "…but Alina is waiting for you."

"Huh? It's…" I glanced at a clock hanging above Winry's work station, "eleven o'clock, shouldn't she be asleep?"

"She's waiting for _you_," Ava repeated with a shrug before climbing quickly back up the stairs.

I slowly got to my feet, neatly setting the blanket aside as I did so. "No," Winry said quietly and I jumped slightly, startled by her sudden response. Her cerulean eyes were filled with sorrow as she gazed up at me, "I've never been to your world."  
She then added quietly, almost too soft for me to hear, "No one has."

My mind was a mass of complete and utter confusion as the dream replayed in my head over and over again, as if I didn't inspect every tiny detail then it would instantly fade from my memory. All Alina had really been waiting for was a bath and she sat contently in her tub of warm water, surrounded by white, glistening bubbles.

"Wait," her voice was hesitant as I grabbed the door knob, "don't go."

I let my fingers slip off of the brass and turned to give her a quizzical look. "I…I need someone else here…to protect me…i-in case a monster crawls up the drain."

I must have appeared unconvinced, because she continued on timidly, "It happened once! A monster crawled up the drain an…"

I leaned against the marble countertop and waved my good hand in the air as a sign of defeat, "Alright."

"So…you'll stay?"

I smiled, "there's no place I'd rather be."

For the first time since I'd met her, Alina smiled in return.

* * *

Alina had finally settled down to sleep after her bath and some serious reassurance that no monsters would be creeping out of anyone's closet anytime soon. I was in Pinako's room, gathering the empty cups of tea that littered her bedside table. "You people are too good for me," she coughed, her head poking out from beneath a layer of blankets.

I smiled and lightly pressed my lips to her heated forehead, "Good night Pinako."

She mumbled something in return as I turned out the light and make my way down to the kitchen. It was close to midnight and the house was quiet-every light off and door shut except for the lamp beside Winry's work station. The house was, although fairly large, small for such a large amount of people and the sleeping arrangements were a bit cramped. So I wasn't too surprised to find Winry asleep on the couch.

I pulled the blanket, which had been lying at her feet, up around her and tucked it in at her shoulders. This woman…_my mother?_ …she was once a stranger too.

Dazed and confused, I turned off the lamp at the work station and waded through the darkness into the kitchen, slipping out the back door once I'd cleaned and dried the tea-stained china.

"Oh," I froze on the back porch as the door clicked shut.

Rolland glanced up from an old, warped table.

"What are you doing out here?"

"What are _you _doing out here?" he countered.

"I asked you first," I replied simply, leaning against the back wall of the house. He picked up a slender rod of steel and held it close to the lantern-his only source of light-for me to see. "Cleaning?" I suggested.

"Prepping," he corrected, "different parts for Winry's new orders."

"Ah," I nodded and hopped up onto a clear, yet wobbly, corner of the table. "I forgot," I began softly, "that this is what you really love."

"Yeah," he gave me a small smile, "sometimes I forget too."

"I guess now isn't exactly the right time to tell your father about your secret apprenticeship either, huh?"

He shrugged, setting down the rod and running his fingers through a pile of screws, "Probably not."

I picked out a cog from the pile to my left and turned it in my hand, "how do you think a parallel universe works?"

"What?" he glanced up from whatever he was polishing to give me a quizzical look.

I placed the cog back down on the table and turned my eyes to the sky above, "I remembered something today…when I was asleep. It was when I was a little girl-four or five maybe, and my mother came back to us. I was sitting with her in this chair we used to have…staring at the stars, the very same ones that are out tonight…it wasn't until I woke up that I realized the woman from the memory had been Winry…holding me as she cried."

"It must have been a dream, you said you were sleeping?"

I nodded, "but I swear it was a memory…something I hadn't thought of in so long…and then I remembered what your father first told me about the parallel universe...that must mean there's two of us-one in each world, right?

"Well yeah," he began scrubbing a patch of oil that had stained the space between two fingers, "but doesn't that sound a little farfetched? That parallel Winry is your long-lost mom?"

"When you put it like that," I leaned back against the wall with a sigh, "…but she said something that I can't get out of my head…she was saying that she wasn't the one he wants' that, he'll never really love her…"

His eyes met mine for a brief moment and a short, brisk silence ensued. "Let's say she is your mom," he began in a quiet, curious tone, "then what?"

I shrugged and counted the constellations that were beginning to appear, "I don't know."

It seemed that despite the differences between our two worlds, the stars remained constant. I knew that if someone else in some far off land happened to be peering at the sky that we would be connected in some small way through the stars-burning giants who are but twinkling lights to our sheltered worlds.

"Ava is hunting you."

He smirked, "I've noticed."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, "you know about that?"

"Everyone does," he shrugged, "Husband hunting? They all call it that. A bit disturbing if you ask me."

"Tell me about it," I sighed and then giggled, remembering my earlier conversation with her, "she thinks you're a stud."

"Yeah?" he cracked a cocky smile, fiddling with a weather-worn rag.

I rolled my eyes; still doubtful of how she could idolize him to such an extent…I mean it was the same boy who would leave his dirty socks lying about and track mud into the house every evening. I hadn't realized it until I glanced at him, but his deep, dark eyes had been studying my face.

With remnants of that cocky smile still on his face, he asked me in a quiet voice, "and what do you think?"

I blinked, dumbfounded, having been caught off guard.

The rag he had been holding slipped through his fingers and onto the ground below as he moved to the right so that he stood before me. I shifted on the table where I sat, and for once we were at eye level with one another. Before I could react, my nerves sparked with anxiety as one of his oil-stained hands slowly slid up my leg until finally choosing to rest on my back while the other tentatively cupped my face.

I pressed my palm flat against his chest, the heat of his body warming my hand with every breath. My mind was blank, thoughtless. But I was glad-I was through thinking and speaking and acting. We stayed like that for a moment, foreheads touching, our lips but centimeters apart. No words, no sentimental fluff, only the two of us shrouded by the night with the dancing moths casting tiny shadows against our prickling skin.

And then, it was over as fast as it had begun. His hand fell away from my face and my fingertips barely grazed his chest as he pulled back. There had been no kiss, no relief of the tension in the air between our lips. And we both knew why. Rolland stepped to the side and cleared his throat, strands of black hair falling into his eyes.

"It's been a long day; you should go get some sleep."

"Yeah," I muttered softly, hopping off of the table, "guess I'll see you in the morning."

He nodded, keeping a distance as I walked past him to the back door.

I only looked back once as I made my way into the house. He was leaning over with his elbows on the table and his hands in his hair with the rag still lying crumpled in the grass. I paused half way up the stairs and leaned against the cold, dark wall. I thought of Mischa, and what she would tell me at a time like this. She would tell me to kiss him-to take all of my doubt and complexities, kick them to the curb, march back downstairs, and get what I've been waiting for since I first laid eyes upon him.

But instead I continued up the stairs and down the hall to the bedroom I was sharing with Ava and Alina. Things were different. Mischa wasn't there anymore, and neither were the children that we used to be.


	14. Out of the Depths

**Author's Note: ****(Disclaimer: You know the drill; I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist in any way, shape or form).**

**I recently realized three things while looking back at past chapters- 1****. ****The early chapters were poorly executed and given very little thought, 2. I'm beyond partial to writing romance and it's beginning to get the story off plot, and 3. There are several loose ends remaining from the anime series that I have yet to tie...so in light of these epiphanies, I'd like to apologize. **

**I'm definitely going to try being more focused and on topic from now on =]**

**Thank you for reading!**

**Yours truly,**

**AL**

* * *

The warm-colored leaves which had been released by the surrounding tress swirled in the restless autumn wind and the morning sky served as a vast melting pot of crisp orange giants and withering blossoms the color of the rising sun. I slowly took in the chilled country air, delighted by the warmth of the sun's rays against my skin.

"You seem chipper," Riza commented light-heartedly.

I replied with a smile and continued down the dusty path, leaving all afterthoughts of the previous day far behind me. It was nice to be out of the house and away from all things Rolland, especially after our bizarre encounter during the wee hours of the night. It was just the five of us-Riza, Roy, Alina, a dog, and me.

"Don't wander too far, Puppy," Alina gently warned the dog. Although he was far from the runt of black fur that I had seen the first time I stayed at the Rockbell residence, he had yet to grow into full-sized adult and was in that goofy, gangly stage somewhere in between. After wandering down stairs out of monster-driven fear, Alina had spent the entire night with the (assumedly) nameless dog and had grown quite attached.

I slowed down my gait and began to fall back into step with Roy and Riza, curiosity chewing on the mangled corners of my brain. "So," I started off, hands snuggly resting in the pockets of my sweater, "you mentioned back at the hospital that I was officially affirmed as a state alchemist…"

Mustang raised his eyebrows and glanced my way, "You believed that? I was just blowing steam to boost your spirits."

"Don't lie," Riza sighed.

He continued with a smirk, "I only got a glimpse of the approval papers, but in all of the chaos I doubt they've assigned you a name or any real purpose."

"I already have a purpose," I corrected him. The statement made me uneasy-plaguing me with doubt. It felt like I'd fallen so far off of the tracks that no longer had any idea as to where I was supposed to go.

"Mistake number one," Mustang briefly pointed a gloveless finger in my direction, "the military is your purpose. Stay under the radar and you'll be able to chase that secret agenda of yours to your heart's content."

"In short," I sighed, "I'm a dog without tags?"

A coy grin spread across his face as Alina took my hand and suddenly, we were running. I yelped in surprise as she tugged at my arm, "let's go-it's just up ahead!"

I glanced back at Roy and Riza, who were strolling patiently with the dog by their side. "Go on," Riza motioned with a flick of her wrist, "we'll meet back up once we've checked in with Central."

I didn't have time to nod. Already we had reached the mouth of the town's tiny center and the streets, while not bustling, were riddled with people. "Can I get a new dress, and maybe some shoes?" her big, chocolate-colored eyes illuminated her pale face as she gazed up at me pleadingly. I bit my lip and took a peak into my pocket book before snapping it shut. "Sure," I smiled with a few dollars to spare, "lead the way." And surprisingly, she did.

A mere heartbeat later I was being pulled into a quaint boutique. "Here?" I asked curiously, glancing at the woolen sweaters and knitted cardigans. The store was small-tiny, even, to the point that every inch was visible from the doorway. She nodded eagerly. "Alright, off you go," I smiled, shrugging slightly as she shuffled to the children's rack.

"What a sweetheart."

I jumped at the sound of another person's voice. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." The woman behind the counter smiled as small, grubby hands pulled numbingly at her hair.

"It's alright, really, I'm always like this."

"Sharp senses, that's good. So, what brings you here? I don't recognize either of you."

"Oh," I glanced through the large glass windows at the cobblestone streets. The passerby's were warm and friendly to one another, smiling and waving like neighbors rather than strangers going on the way. "We just came in from Central; we're visiting some old friends."

"Sounds nice," the woman sighed nostalgically, gently prying the baby's fingers from her golden locks. "Oh, you said Central? It's a dangerous time down there, we heard about the attack. It was two days late-so much for national awareness…but I guess it's better to know late than never at all. Is that why you two are here? You must be staying long, it's not that I doubt our military-oh no, I'm positive that the Drachmann's won't come anywhere near here but it's going to take some time to get them out of the city. You're staying with a friend? Anyway one I know?"

By this time I was leaning against the countertop, turning the turquoise beads of a display necklace with my fingers. She spoke in long, gushing paragraphs but her voice was soothing, and the words blended together in one graceful, continuous stream. I smiled, "The Rockbells-they live just down the road."

The woman's face lit up at the sound of their name.

"Is that so?" the baby cooed softly as she switched him to the other side of her hip before launching into another exasperated plaudit.

"My mother and Pinako go way back-how is she feeling? The poor dear, we heard that she was ill. Oh! Maybe I can fish up something for you to take back to her-you see, my mom had me when she was really old, like _really _old-but she's still kicking-anyway Pinako used to be her babysitter way back when! By the time I came around, my mom wanted a quiet place to settle and she chose to live a little down the road and turns out Pinako had settled here too! Winry was born when I was about ten or eleven, so there's quite an age gap between us but she's a sweetheart nonetheless. You know, to be honest with you, she's so beautiful and talented…I thought she'd become some famous city-slicker but she eventually came back here to settle down like the rest of us."

"Hmm," I nodded with a small smile, so lost in a new kind of nothingness that I was completely oblivious to the sound of her voice when it started back up again. "So how do you know the Rockbells?"

"Oh, um…" her eyes brimmed with curiosity of a small-town mother and just as I was about to explain, the hem of my sweater was being tugged on ever-so-lightly. "May I get these?" I looked down to see Alina's smiling face, her hands full of odds and ends.

I picked out a woolen dress from her arms-white with a somewhat sparkling sheen, the collar, cuffs, and hem were all lined with synthetic white feathers. "Sure," I replied, eyeing a cable-knit scarf and a pair of black boots. She was still smiling, giddy with excitement as the woman rang up the items.

"Good choices, very chic." she gave a nod of approval and the baby gurgled.

"I'm Cora, by the way," she then added while handing me the bag and receipt. "Skyla," I replied in return, passing the bag down to a very anxious Alina, "it was nice meeting you…I'll tell Pinako you said 'hi'."

Her warm, lightly tanned face lit up, "That would be wonderful! I promise to stop by soon, you know, maybe even tom-"

The shop creaked-long and loud like a rusty door hinge on stereo. Cora fell silent as the three of us (and the baby) grew rigid. The noise grew louder, now the volume of a cargo ship's blaring siren. I glanced at the baby, whose mouth was hanging open, poised to cry but before any solid sound could escape the floor began to shake.

Just like that, the proverbial rug was pulled from beneath our feet and buildings that lined the streets shook with the violence of an angered bull. Alina let out a quiet, terrified cry as I rushed her under the counter along with Cora and her screaming child.

"What are you doing?" she tried called after me as I ran outside on shaking knees but her shrill voice died out among the wailing of the earth.

People crowded doorways while others stood helpless on the side of the road, bracing themselves against the tremendous quake. I was flooded with an immediate sense of dread as I stared in gaping awe at what lied ahead. No more than two yards ahead, the cobblestone had completely shattered and large chunks of mortar and stone were spouting from the earth as they were shoved up against one another.

A large crack was traveling down the center of the road, the only form of relieving the internal pressure in the rocks.

A heartbeat later and the ground was flat and still. Gasps and urgent, worried chatter quickly grew louder as the initial shock dispersed. "Did you see that? The ground was glowing-look, there was that light," they murmured, so many concerned about the bizarre light.

_Light? From the ground?_

Beneath my feet, I could feel the ground continuing to shift ever so lightly. "No," I whispered, franticly swinging around to see others stumble out of nearby buildings.

Although the shaking had subsided, the damage was far from over. The wooden buildings were swaying and moaning as the soil upon which their foundations lied gave way. Out of the corner of my eye I caught of glimpse of something unusual. A vague figure appeared among the rubble but no one seemed to notice. A two-story Inn from across the way was already crumbling-the roof caved inward with an alarming crack and the few guests who had been staying there ran out, panicked.

The spectators watched in fear as the unsuspecting guests stood beneath the falling balcony as the splintered high beams snapped in two. A woman screamed off in the distance and I could hear the alarmed cry of a baby-maybe Cora's-rising above the sounds of chaos.

The screaming guests flocked together and I raced forward, my mind in a haze with the anticipation of a transmutation. I pressed my palms against the cold, hard earth and the elements danced beneath the tips of my fingers. Alchemy was a matter of language-taking the same word and translating it in a number of ways. One part calcium, one part carbon, three parts oxygen, and the lightweight limestone rose up and over the guests-acting as a buffer between their heads and the falling overhang.

The wood numbly hits the stone and slides onto the cracked road. "Go." My voice is quiet, but they listen and scurry out from under the make-shift umbrella. One of them glanced back at me as I compressed the stone back into place and for a moment I held their surprised gaze before remembering that other businesses would be breaking apart as well.

Glancing around, my eyes caught sight of a flash of red light from the General's flames. Most of the buildings were wooden structures and with the snap of his fingers, any detached pieces were nothing more than ashes by the time they reached the ground.

Riza was hurrying a couple from off of the streets while a few others did the same. I stood, oblivious, as they Inn loomed over me. I looked up, slightly confused as a shadow crept upon me-the weight of the second story had uprooted the entire front entrance and large slabs of wood came crashing down.

I ducked; about to roll out from under the wreckage but I was instead hurled forward, a force so strong that I slid across the pavement. An unintentional, and slightly embarrassing, cry escaped my lips as my shoulder hit the curb-my knees and elbows swelling with blood from where the concrete shaved away the skin.

"Skyla!" I didn't recognize the voice, or was even able to indicate where it came from.

My head throbbed as I glanced back at the pile of wood and stone that lied beside my feet. I took a deep breath, my eyes glued, unblinking, to the scene. I knew that face, the one buried among the rubble. I was all too familiar with that dark golden hair and the curve of that strong jaw.

My heart screamed in panic, in need for oxygen as I lied there in a state of breathless shock. Dark, wet stains dappled the surrounding wreckage and a pool of blood spilled over his forehead, staining the contours of his face a vibrant crimson. Vague noises all around-footsteps and shouting and panic, but no real words. No real anything.

But it was him. It was really him.

Despite the dust and chaos and the atmosphere of it all, I couldn't help but smile.

"Welcome back, Dad."


	15. The Day of Departure

**Author's Note: ****(Disclaimer: You know the drill; I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist in any way, shape or form).**

**Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that Amestris is supposed to be or could be interpreted as a parallel to the fascist Germany of the twentieth century, but I didn't think too much of it. Then I did some actual research (to prevent me from continually plowing blindly through this story with no regards to the actual dynamics of the original series) and found out (it is said) that the various countries (Creta, Drachma, Xing, Aerugo, etc.) bordering Amestris share a number of similarities with countries surrounding Germany and that certain events that occur throughout the Manga mimic various battles and treaties involved in the world wars.**

**I don't know why, but I was suddenly very excited about this. I hope that you are too =]**

**Sincerely, **

**AL**

* * *

It had been done, and nothing had changed. Alphonse was in a state of disbelief, still dumfounded by what had occurred. He was fascinated, almost, unable to fathom the insignificance of the event. They'd finally accomplished what they'd been working toward for nearly a year and despite all of the effort and sacrifice, the world remained the same.

Al sat down on an empty crate, particles of dust hovering in the air around him. "After all of that," he sighed and glanced up at the sky light shedding warm rays of sun down upon him, "and everything is the same. The birds, the dust, the cars…the only difference is the absence of one man."

The younger Elric brother studied the empty warehouse for some small alteration-something that would forever be affected by the lack of his brother. Again, he found nothing-even the transmutation circle, crudely drawn in fading chalk, had been absorbed during the transmutation without leaving a single speck of calcium carbonate behind.

"It was always okay as long as we were together, wasn't it brother? But everything is different now." The remaining stub of chalk quivered slightly in his palm and he closed his fingers around it, thinking of his dying wife. Al lurched forward and rested his elbows on his knees with a sigh, their quasi-argument still playing vividly through his mind.

"_Brother…continuous travel through the gate is dangerous-you can do it without consequence but the boys and I can't-I don't care about what happens to my body, but who knows what they might have to sacrifice?"_

_Ed looked up from where he was sitting, his golden eyes fixated on his little brother. "Yeah," he said quietly, bowing his head once more, "I know… but we can't keep doing this Al; it's got to be one world or the other."_

"_I wonder," the elder Elric began, "what she's given to the truth…"_

"_Brother, I know this is hard for you…but it's been almost two years…have you considered the possibility that-"_

"_That she didn't make it through? Yeah, I have." Edward pushed off of the chair and onto his feet, his fists clenched tightly by his sides, "but I'm not giving up until we know for certain-and neither are you."_

"_Of course not, but we aren't kids anymore!" Al's passive voice became unusually loud and both brothers were startled by this sudden spark of urgency. "When we were young it was always okay as long as we were together but things have changed-it's not just you and me anymore." Al explained, growing calmer. _

"_Al…you only mentioned the boys…"_

_They both knew why._

"_Sophia's dying, Edward. She can barely get out of bed let alone make a journey to a foreign world."_

_Edward opened his mouth but Al cut in with the shake of his head, "I know…I'm sorry too."_

"_Al?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_I can go through the gate without consequence." Ed grinned, quoting his younger brother. Alphonse raised his eyebrows, uneasy about where he was going with that statement. "And you're right, neither of us has any clue what happened to Skyla, where she could be-let me go through."_

"_Huh? You mean go back?"_

_Ed nodded, "like a scout-to see what has happened, what our next course of action should be."_

"_This is our world-this is where we live now, that's what you said to me when we first came here, remember? Have you become so broken that you're willing to risk it all to go to a place that doesn't belong to us anymore? Or is this about Winry and what happened-" _

"_Don't." Ed shook his head, "this is about my daughter. Like you said, this is bigger than us now-forget us, we aren't even in the picture. It's about our children and their future…and no one ever gets left behind."_

_They stood facing one another, a deep silence in between. "Al…" Ed's quivering voice was barely above a whisper, "you're my brother…I wouldn't be able to do anything without you and under no circumstances would I ever leave you behind. This is our chance to set things right, I'm not saying that we need to make Hugh or Marcoh leave just please, help me bring her back."_

_Al nodded with a weary sigh, "Alright…I think I know where we can go…" _

"Good luck, brother," Al said out loud to the desolated warehouse, "we'll be waiting for you."


	16. The Hero of the People

**Author's Note: **

**I didn't think anyone would actually be interested in this story when I first started writing, so I'm beyond grateful to everyone who reads this! Thank you so much!**

**Oh, and I have absolutely no clue as to what Skyla's alchemist name should be…all of my ideas have been too girly :p**

**Any and all suggestions are greatly appreciated =]**

**Love,**

**AL**

* * *

The latter half of the day was by far more interesting than the morning had been. The slowly modernizing village of Resembol had recently installed a clinic in their town square and although it was no state-of-the-art facility, it was resourceful all the same.

"_Look, it's really him."_

I sat in the quaint waiting room, glancing out the window. Alina was munching on something sweet, sitting on a bench outside. The nurses refused to let the dog inside despite her pleading, so she was more the eager to take up Cora's offer and sit outside with her and the baby. It was a nice evening with the warm air growing slightly humid as the sun made its descent behind the rolling grass hills.

"_That can't be Edward Elric, is it?"_

"_I swear he's here! The Hero of the People…"_

My father had been the talk of the town since and after I had gotten over the shock of his sudden arrival an estranged curiosity took hold of me. The Hero of the People? The way others spoke of him made him sound like some kind…

"God, what's taking so long?"

I glanced to my left, "Are you alright?"

"Huh?" The boy looked startled, as if he hadn't realized that the only other chair in the tiny waiting room was occupied. "Oh, er, excuse me; I didn't know you were there."

"It's not a problem." I smiled, relieved to turn my mind to something other than the thought of my father's broken ribs and bleeding organs. "Sorry, again, it's just that they started the operation around two-already it's been five hours."

"I'm no expert, but I think surgeries tend to be a long time." I bit my lip, giving him a slight shrug when he turned to shoot me a 'that's not the point' look. He didn't look too young-he had the lean, gawky build of a teenager with the short, cropped haircut of a school boy. Pale freckles dotted his tanned face, which seemed to make his auburn hair glow under the fluorescent lights.

His long fingers tapped anxiously against the arm of the chair, "Resetting a broken leg does _not _take five hours."

I snuck a brief glance outside to check on Alina before turning back to his worried green eyes, "A broken leg? Well if the bone shattered then there's more work to be done than just resetting it, I don't mean to worry you…either way it's fairly simple. I'm sure they are just trying to give him the best care possible despite how long it may take."

He began tapping his foot and it was clear to me that my sub-par reassurance skills weren't going to cut it this time. He shook his head, "Some new patient came in half an hour after my dad, I guess he's special or something. All the nurses are making a big fuss. There's only one doctor who runs the place and he's spending all of his time with this stupid hot-shot. Don't they know that we got here first?"

His voice had been so loud that it carried itself down the hall, drawing the attention of pretty much everyone in the building. "Skyla," Mustang cleared his throat and I glanced up to see him standing in the doorway, "that stupid hot-shot of yours just got out of surgery."

He beckoned me with a nod of his head and I stood up, sympathetic of the boy sitting in the chair. His pale eyes grew wide, his mouth agape in the shape a small 'O'.

"Is he awake?"

"No," Mustang shook his head and for the first time I noticed the fine scratches that riddled his face, "but it's getting late. We called Winry and explained what had happened-"

"Did you tell her about…?" I titled my head in the direction of my father's room and the General shook his head once more, "No. I told her about the earth quake and that we'd be staying overnight-"

I folded my arms across my chest, "we can't keep Alina here until morning-the Inn was destroyed and a medical facility isn't exactly the best place to sleep."

"Calm down, will you? The woman you met in the store, she lives a little ways down the road-about ten minutes by foot. She was nice enough to let us stay the night."

I opened my mouth to speak but was interrupted, as always, "I arranged it earlier, you were too busy verbally assaulting the nurses."

I narrowed my eyes, "when was this?"

"When they were disinfecting your shoulder."

"I heard that-you were vicious," Riza teased, a small smile on her face as she approached us. "It stung," I replied, fighting back a smile despite my defensive tone. Riza had a few nasty-looking bruises about her as well whereas my only real flesh wound had nothing to do with the earth quake. The stitches in my shoulder had burst open when I fell to the ground, but it turns out they were ready to be removed anyway.

An eerie silence fell upon us as we stood in the hall. "He's really back..." Riza's voice was quiet and all eyes turned to her. "Yeah," Mustang replied, sounding as if he too was in a state of disbelief, "He is."

I was quick to get over the initial shock of my father's return-it had been a little under two years since I'd last seen his face, but somewhere deep inside I'd always known that we wouldn't be apart for long. But for them…for this world…he'd been gone for so long, almost two decades. I couldn't even begin to imagine how they felt.

A guttural, coughing noise was made and the three of us turned to see the boy from the waiting room nervously standing before us. "I'm, er, sorry about what I, uh said…I had no idea you…"

"It's fine, really," I smiled, dismissing it with a casual flick of my hand.

"I guess his leg _was_ shattered so they're going to keep him over night to watch his progress…a nurse just told me so…"

Mustang slipped his hands into his coat pocket, "it's getting late, we shouldn't keep Cora waiting."

"Oh, about that…I'm not going."

He raised his eyebrows, "No?"

I shook my head, "No. I want to stay here in case he wakes up... or not, either way…"

Mustang opened his mouth to warn against my choice but was stopped by Riza, who gently placed a warming hand on his fore arm. "We'll come back first thing in the morning; will you be alright by yourself?"

"I've got company," I smiled, glancing at the boy who had been excluded from the new conversation. Being brought back into the swing of things, he replied in awkward, choppy sentences, "Yes, I'll, er, be here for um, for a while so..."

The two of them watched, amused, as the words stumbled from his mouth. "This is her number; make sure to call us if anything happens." I grabbed the slip of paper from Riza and nodded, "Of course."

"My name is um…Caleb."

"I'm Skyla," I replied, watching Roy and Riza join Alina and Cora outside.

He fidgeted beside me, "so that man who came in earlier is…?"

"My father," I smiled, politely turning to him, "and speaking of father's, why don't we go see yours?"

Despite his immediate surprise, he gave me a slight nod and led me into the nearest room on the left. "Pa? How are you feeling?"

I peered into the room curiously. "Better, much better!" a stout but lean man was smiling, his cheeks flushed bright red.

"Oh, and who is this?" his voice was so jolly and upbeat that it was hard not to smile.

"Right, um, Pa this is Skyla…Skyla this is my father."

"It's, ah, nice to meet you," I smiled as he shook my hand-his palms rough with calluses. "Likewise!" He grinned.

"You a friend of Caleb's? I sure hope so; it'll do this boy some good to take his mind off of the farm work for once."

Caleb shifted, looking fairly flustered, "if I hadn't taken my mind off of the farm work then you wouldn't have had to fix that tractor by yourself! I could have prevented this!"

"This thing?" he glanced at the navy blue cast that enveloped a good portion of his leg, "Nah! This would have happened one way or the other. Don't you go blaming yourself-Oh! Did you here? This place is famous! They've got the Hero of the People in the other room! That kid just up and disappeared and now he's here, in that very room!"

My heart lurched as he said this and Caleb glanced my way.

"The Hero of the People?" his son repeated before turning to me, "the man in that room…isn't he your father?"

"You're that girl!" we all turned to see a nurse, clad in pink, standing in the doorway.

"Eh?" I raised my eyebrows in confusion.

Caleb's dad managed to pick his jaw up off of the floor, his eyes still wide with surprise. "I overheard the Flame Alchemist talk about you-Edward Elric's daughter!"

"Umm, yeah," I bit my lip uneasily.

"Well I'll be damned," Caleb's father muttered while his son stood there just as confused as I was. "What? What's so special about this guy?"

I glanced at the nurse, who looked almost appalled by his last statement, "Edward Elric? The Fullmetal Alchemist?"

"The what?" I blurted out, suddenly embarrassed as I realized how loud I'd asked this. "Oh, dear, you don't know? He's your own father too…" she shook her head with a 'tut-tut'.

"The Fullmetal Alchemist was a legend-traveled around with his kid brother, big guy in a suit of armor. They say he was really looking for the philosopher's stone but that boy was inspiration to a lot of people out east, made quite a name for himself."

"Really?" Caleb asked both perplexed and in awe as he sat down in the closest chair.

The nurse nodded enthusiastically, "him and his brother once saved this town Fr…"

I smiled and patiently listened as they told their stories, stories which never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined my father and uncle would star in. Their faces were aglow with excitement as they told the tales of the Elric brothers' heroic ventures and amazing feats. It was then that I realized how deeply my father and uncle were rooted to this world.

After listening to Benedict and nurses marvel over my family's great past I shuffled back to my father's room, my eyes heavy with sleep. The solid oak door clicked quietly shut behind me and I sat down beside my father's bed, studying the man I thought I once knew.

"Who are you?" I murmured, relaying the stories of his epic quest to reclaim what they had lost.

He didn't even flinch but rather continued to lie peacefully on his back, his chest rising and falling in time with the beeping of the monitor on the opposite side of his bed. Sprawled out on the floor with my back against the wall, I rested my head on the corner of his pillow. He head was fairly close to mine and I could see the muscles of his face twitch with every breath. He reeked of blood and sweat and metal, but somehow it was nice, familiar, even.

I looked up at the ceiling; its pristine white paint job was stained with shadows. The only light source in the room came from a small lamp in the corner, its flickering bulb days away from dying out. My father made a quiet noise, some kind of utterance in his sleep.

"_Normal patients usually don't wake up from this procedure for at least twenty-four hours."_ The doctor had said.

"Stop being silly," I told myself, "he's got a good twelve hours to go…"

My father's eyelids fluttered lightly and I lifted my head from the pillow, still muttering to myself, "then again, he's not a normal patient."

The distance between the monitor's beeps became shorter as his shallow breath began to quicken.

"Dad?" I whispered, my hand frozen in mid-air, as if this moment would disappear if I dared to touch him.

"Hmmm," his eyes squeezed shut as he grumbled.

"Daddy," I repeated, gently nudging his shoulder. "Wha…? Mmm," he opened his eyes, blinked once, and then again.

"Skyla?" he sounded groggy and confused. My heart skipped a beat and I sat there, fighting back the tears that were beginning to build up in the corners of my eyes. "What's wrong? Was it a bad dream?" his words slurred together and were nearly indistinguishable but regardless, I smiled.

"No," I murmured in return as a tear spilled down my cheek, "no, everything's wonderful. Absolutely wonderful."

"Huh? Wh-Gah!" he cried out in pain as he attempted to get up. The monitor began to beep frantically as the small red line which mimicked his heart beat spiked to the top of the screen. "Ah, no don't do that," I fretted, urging him to lie back down. His head fell back onto the pillow as it were lead and he sighed, looking exhausted from the strain of such little movement.

"What is this? Where are we?"

"It's alright," I soothed as his breathing calmed, "everything is going to be alright…" His fingers lightly curled around my hand and I rested my head on his pillow once more.

Despite the elated, joyous feeling that danced through my veins, there was something tugging at the back of my mind, something that had been there since much earlier that day. I couldn't avoid the thought of as good as it was that my father here and alive, he had returned alone. I closed my weary eyes, worried and relieved all in one sitting.

_Finally my father is home…but where is my uncle?_


	17. Reality Within a Dream

Although outside the wind howled and wayward branches tapped eerily against the window pane, the room was warm and safe. Passive rays of sunshine filtered in through a small rectangular window near the ceiling, brightening the dull clinic walls. Caleb and his father had already taken off by the time I woke up the next morning and immediately I could tell that it was going to be one of those days where everything is moving a mile a minute and you're still stuck on pause.

The night nurse was asleep at the front desk. Her head was titled back and a few drops of drool trickled from her open mouth. Roy and Riza had arrived-just as they had said-first thing in the morning. I jumped, caught off guard by the loud clang of the cow bells attached to the front door. Winry burst in, breathless. The nurse's eyelids twitched, but didn't open as a much disshelved Winry stood frazzled in the doorway.

I caught a glimpse of Alina outside behind her, playing with Cora and her baby outside of their boutique-the three of them completely indifferent to anything that was going on.

"He…he's here?"

Mustang nodded and gestured to the nearest room. I had overheard him tell Winry the full truth no more than a half an hour ago. She had hung up before he even thought of muttering 'good-bye'. I watched as she took a deep breath to gather her composure before she crossed the threshold of the clinic. I stepped outside, deciding that the coming moment was meant for them alone. I had been given my fair share of time with my father, and now it was time for hers.

* * *

The room was still as the door slowly creaked open. Edward blinked sleepy-he had found that his eyelids were the only muscles that he could move without his aching body screaming in protest.

"Edward?" the voice was distant and soft, as if he were in a dream.

A quiet, rather feminine gasp ensued, "it is you…"

He was now fully awake, listening to the footsteps as they approached his bed. A shadow fell across his contently whimsical face and he narrowed his eyes, "Winry?"

"Hah!" he chuckled, "this is a dream!"

"Huh?"

A smug smile crossed his face, "I can do whatever I want and nothing will ever hurt! Oh, I love drea-ahhh." Ed had attempted to push himself up off of the bed only to fail and sink back down, his head placed awkwardly among the pillows. "Okay…so maybe I can't do _anything_. This dream is terrible."

His limbs still throbbed in pain from his rash movements and a very childish Edward pouted, "This is stupid-oh!" his face brightened, "but Winry, you're here! This dream isn't so bad after all."

"Ed," Winry murmured, brushing her fingertips against his heated forehead.

"Oh," she fretted quietly, "I forgot that they still have you on drugs…the effects of the anesthetic probably haven't worn off yet…"

"Eh? Drugs?"

Winry's smile was curiously gentle as she nodded, "Mustang told me about your surgery…"

His golden eyes narrowed once again, "surgery? Don't say these things-this is a dream! Relax, have fun! In a little bit I'll have to wake up and…and…"

Ed's sunny, albeit delusion, demeanor seemed to shatter and he glanced up at Winry. Their eyes met for a brief moment before he continued-his voice like that of a disappointed child's, "I'll wake up…and you won't be there."

Winry's pale pink lips twisted into a frown as she fell back into the chair beside his bed with a sigh. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked curiously, giving her a side-ways glance. "Oh, Ed," she rested the back of her hand against her forehead and he couldn't tell whether she was smiling or crying, "how do you get yourself into such messes?"

"What? This is one cracked up dream-"

"This isn't a dream, Ed."

Ed slowly closed his open mouth and an unsettling silence fell between them-leaving only the beeping of his bedside monitor to fill the air.

He wriggled uncomfortably, attempting to shake his head in disbelief, "Silly Winry, that's not possible-what is this then? Where else could I possibly be?"

"No one told you?" Winry's voice trembled as the tears began to spill down her flushed-pink cheeks, "Edward…you're home."

* * *

My father hadn't seemed too off of his rocker when I first spoke to him after his surgery during those late hours in the night…maybe that's why his sudden state of denial was such a shock to me. The clinic wouldn't release him for a few more days and despite our constant attempts to bring him back to reality during those three days, it still took him a week to fully be able to differentiate between what was real and what his drugged sub-conscious was dubiously creating for him.

Our reassurances and demonstrations were met by his stubborn rebukes that there was absolutely no way that this was anything but a dream. His explanations behind this logic were long and often times they became sillier as the day progressed-ranging from this must be a dream since it just wasn't comprehendible that his innocent little girl could walk among alchemists to this must be a dream since there's no way Mustang could ever have a son because he never gets laid.

Finally, after days of fire and hypnosis and verbal death matches, my father came to his senses and slowly began to crawl out from under the shadow of his anesthetized self.

I leaned against the kitchen counter and watched my father sitting at the dining table. Winry, who had seldom left his side (which was something, I'd noticed, that he never seemed to object to), sat beside him looking rather distressed.

"He's almost back to normal," I commented with a small smile. For the first time in weeks the house was quiet-Roy and Riza had gone back into town in hope of some news from the military's Headquarters while Alina had dragged Ava out to pick some flowers…things were good. Even Pinako was up and about, shuffling through an old pile of scrap metal.

Winry said something and my father stuck out his tongue-something so childish that it seemed out of place on a grown man. Rolland raised his eyebrows, "As you were saying?"

I sighed, "Key word: _almost._"

I caught a glimpse of his smirk out of the corner of my eye but chose to ignore it, my mind wandering off once again. I had made a habit of doing that lately, zoning out to pull up old memories-studying past conversation as if I'd find some hidden meaning if I listened closely to every word. This time it was a particular sentence that stood out to me.

"_So much for going through the gate without consequence," _my father had chuckled after explaining to me the absence of my cousins and uncle.

"Really, Ed? All this time later and you still won't drink your milk?" Winry's alarming tone brought me back to reality and I blinked, startled.

"Huh?" I turned to Rolland, hoping for some answers.

He laughed, "You haven't heard this before? I swear it's some kind of bit between them, it's been going on for the past day or so."

"What has?" my eyes narrowed out of curiosity.

Rolland shrugged, "I guess your dad has a thing against milk? It drives Winry crazy."

"That's what this is about?" I glanced back at them and sure enough, she was nudging a glass of white liquid closer to his food.

"If you just drank your milk you wouldn't have such an issue with your height!"

"Ouch," Rolland muttered beside me. I watched, beyond confused, as the tension rose between them. "I'm taller than you now!" my father retorted, his face flushed red.

I ran a hand through my hair, completely lost, "…but…doesn't she know that he's allergic to milk?"

"What?" amusement lingered in Rolland's dark eyes, "really?"

I nodded as my dad folded his arms across his chest, "that stuff is disgusting anyway."

It had taken some time, but finally, a light bulb went off in my head. My jaw dropped as I pointed an accusing finger at my father, astounded by how truly childish he could be, "LIAR! You told me you were lactose intolerant!"

Winry's cerulean eyes widened in surprise and she slowly turned her gaze from me to my father, "what…?"

He quickly snatched his fork from the table and began to guiltily shovel food into his mouth.

"Edward!"

"It was a little white lie! Never have I made her eat or drink anything that she doesn't like!" he was pointing at me now.

I sighed, brining my hand to my forehead, "that doesn't count-I like everything."

"What sane person wants anything to do with liquid excreted from the uterus of a cow? It's not right!"

I squinted, studying the contents of his plate before casually commenting, "Eggs are chicken menstruation and you don't seem to have a problem with those."

Winry cracked a smile as my father's face wrinkled in disgust-it was too late, in the heat of his defense he'd swallowed the scrambled eggs that he'd been stuffing into his mouth. He pushed the plate of fried yolks an arms-distance length away from him, "I think I just became vegan."

The door opened as a giggle escaped my throat. Within heartbeats the atmosphere dropped into a state of utter gloom. The sound of Mustang's heavy boots against the wooden floors echoed throughout the house and we all fell silent.

His face was grave as he stood in the doorway, Riza just behind him, her concerned auburn eyes fixed on Rolland. "Fullmetal," the general nodded.

My father stood up, suddenly regaining the familiar macho persona that I knew and loved. He smiled lightly, his golden eyes sparking with the adventure of his past, "It's been a while since I've heard that name."

Mustang's mouth twitched into a brief smirk before he slipped his hands from his coat pocket to reveal a tattered piece of paper that had been folded into a minuscule square. "A letter arrived from headquarters yesterday," he said solemnly, "we have a lot to discuss."


	18. Let's Talk War

For some reason it seemed that any time a significant group of people gathered in the Rockbell's living room, it meant that something had gone wrong. There were always two constants when it came to these occasions: gloomy faces and tea. I took a hesitant sip of the copper-colored liquid, wrinkling my nose as the overpowering tang of honey washed over my tongue.

"I thought you liked _everything_," Rolland leaned in and whispered into my ear and I jabbed his rib cage with my elbow as Mustang cleared his throat. "Every post office within one hundred miles of a train station received a summons of all military personnel."

"To where?" Winry's eyes narrowed as she fiddled with an oil-stained rag.

"Whichever military command is nearest to the place which you received the letter-for us, it's East City," Riza informed her, suddenly looking very serious and professional.

The room fell quiet and after a moment of silence Mustang carried on, "Our situation is bad. The Fürer went missing after the invasion and Drachma's troops still occupy Central. I guess there were a few civilian militias that drove a few soldiers from their villages but for the most part they have no intention of withdrawing anytime soon. We need to gather our forces back together and retaliate as soon as possible…"

I could feel my father tense beside me as I leaned over to Rolland-my lips practically against his skin to keep the rest of the room from overhearing, "You have to tell them."

"Tell them what?" he hissed back.

"That you don't want to be in the military!" I replied, watching my father out of the corner of my eye. He was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, and appeared to be intent on listening to what mustang had to say. But I knew him better than that. He'd subtly tilted his head to the left, listening for bits and pieces of our discreet side conversation.

"Are you crazy?"

"…there have been some border skirmishes in the West…" Mustang was saying and I jabbed Rolland in the side once again, "grow a spine! You can't keep running from reality forever, eventually you'll need to stand up for yourself."

My whisper had grown a bit too loud and my father cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. I pulled away from Rolland and sat up straight, the two of us guiltily focusing on Mustang like children caught passing notes during class. "The brigadier general sent an ambassador to Xing and their emperor agreed to lend us soldiers but they won't be able to cross the desert until the railroads are back up," Riza was saying."

Mustang nodded, "but Xing isn't going to be enough if Creta's president finalizes their treaty with Drachma-they've always been willing allies, now it's just a matter of paperwork."

"Why doesn't Creta just attack us then?" Winry cradled a fading green cup of tea in her slender hands.

"That would be a direct violation of the Non-Aggression Pact that they have with us."

All eyes turned to my father and he grinned, almost smugly, "That's still in effect, isn't it? I'm not completely in the dark here."

Mustang nodded with a small smirk, "he's right. It's ironic, but they're being polite. The basic Etiquette of War is something countries try to avoid straying form. If they swear allegiance to Drachma then the Pact becomes invalid-it's never actually violated, just pushed aside."

"The main problems will be in the North and the West, the South-East should hardly be effected at all," Riza added.

We sat there, digesting this for a moment. "Rolland," the general began, "since your sector hasn't checked in at any of the bases so far we'll need you to-"

I shot him a look and nudged him again. He glared in return before giving in and cutting off his father with a sigh, "about that…"

"About what?" Mustang narrowed his eyes.

Rolland took a deep breath and tensed as he eased into his explanation, "I, um…I don't want to be a part of the military."

Mustang raised his eyebrows and I glanced at Riza, who didn't at all look surprised. "This isn't a game; you can't just change your mind-"

"This isn't a change! I never asked for this life that you put me into-I never had a choice!"

"That's not true, we-"

"Yes!" Rolland continued, "It is! I trained in a military academy instead of going to grade school, I practically _grew up_ in the Central Headquarters and the second I turned sixteen I was taken on as an assistant-you always assumed I wanted this, but never did you ask."

"Wow," I mouthed when he glanced at me after his sudden burst of confidence. "I'm so glad that _my_ child trusts me enough to be honest with me," My father teased, leaning back against the couch.

I bit my lip and this time Rolland was the one who nudged me in the side. "Really, Fullmetal? I'm surprised you're so at ease with your daughter being a dog of the military," Mustang retorted and I could see Riza raise a distressed hand to her forward.

I was almost afraid to look to my right. My dad's eyes peeled open and his superior demeanor shattered as he turned to me. "A _what_?"

"I thought you knew," I cringed, devastated by the look of surprise in his golden eyes.

"You must have seen me use alchemy after that earth quake…" my feeble attempt at justification wasn't working and after that moment the room exploded in a bought of parent-child inquisitions.

The following discussions pretty much went as follows:

**(The left side of the room)**

Mustang: What do you mean you don't want to be in the military? What else could you possibly want to do?

Riza: …auto mail, isn't that what you like?

Mustang and Rolland simultaneously: Eh? How do you know?

Riza: It's fairly obvious.

Mustang: Is this true?

Rolland: Well, I'm more of an engineer but…

Mustang: WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING?

Rolland: BECAUSE YOU NEVER LET ME! The military has always been your thing! …and mom's.

Mustang: *sigh* Maybe…I possibly dragged you into this…but you're enlisted now, you can't back out.

Rolland: (being stubborn) I'm not going out to East City.

Mustang: IT'S ILLEGAL TO DISOBEY YOUR ORDERS!

Rolland: YEAH?

Mustang: YES!

*The two of them stand up, glaring at one another*

Rolland: *plops back down on the couch* Well I don't care.

Mustang: *sits back down with a sigh and buries his face in his face*why did we ever have children?

Riza: *warns sternly* Roy…

**(The right side of the room)**

Edward: You joined the military?

Winry: It was to find her way back to you!

Edward: *overcome with fatherly pride for a moment before remembering that he's angry* Alchemy is what got her here in the first place!

Winry: *grabs a wrench from her work table* What are you saying? You never wanted to be back in this world?

Edward: Of course I wanted to be back! It's just that everything is so complicated now-agh! That's not the point-she directly disobeyed me!

Me: How?

Edward: By reading that book!

Me: *stunned*

Edward: *coughs subtly* your cousins told me…

Me: It's your own fault! Who hides a book in a broom closet?

Edward: NEVER MIND THAT! The military?

Me: You were in the military too!

Edward: I didn't have a _choice_! I was trying to fix a mistake I had made!

Me: THAT'S WHAT I'M DOING!

Winry: …talk about double standards.

Edward: …BUT...

Me: Dad, I'm really sorry…I never meant to hurt you, but joining the military was the fastest way to get the answers I needed to send myself back…what was I supposed to do, wait around to be rescued?

Edward: YES!

Me: Regardless, alchemy is a part of me-it's a part of you! Don't play dumb Mr. Hero of the People. I did my research. You and Uncle Al were prodigies and my grandfather was some kind of super wizard. You can't deny that it runs in the family.

Edward: *raises eyebrows* …super wizard? I thought you liked painting…what happened to that?

Me: *sigh* I did, er, I do…but the circumstances have changed an-eh, dad?

My father was hunched over; his face flushed a bright red. A bead of sweat swiveled down his forehead and I placed a wary hand on his shoulder. I could feel the unnatural heat of his skin radiate through his long-sleeve shirt. "Edward?" Winry asked quietly, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead only to quickly pull it away in surprise, "you're burning up!"

This got Mustang's attention and he lifted his face from his hands. My father stood up, suddenly shaky, "It's fine…I just need some air…need some…"

"Dad!" I yelped and stood up in time to grab his elbow as he crumbled to the floor.

Mustang shot up as well and helped raise him into an upright position. His eyes lulled shut and his breathing fell into a steady rhythm.

"You should get him upstairs…I'll call a doctor," Riza advised and Winry nodded nervously, "…what happened? He was fine this morning…"

Wordlessly, Rolland slipped himself under the arm I'd been supporting and dragged my unconscious father up the stairs with Mustang. Winry ran off to the kitchen to grab some ice while Riza phoned for a doctor. The front door swung open and Alina came skipping through with a basket of neatly cut wildflowers, followed by an exhausted looking Ava.

I stood there, motionless. Alina bounded up to me, smiling. Ava was saying something-her voice loud but I couldn't distinguish any words. I just stood there, stunned into silence with the growing unease that this was all my fault.

* * *

"Has he been under any extreme pressure lately?"

I nearly fainted due to a guilty conscious as the doctor asked this.

"Physical or mental?" Riza was the only person I knew who could stay collected in pretty much any situation.

"Physical," he clarified and I let out a sigh of relief.

"Why do you ask?" Mustang questioned.

The elderly man placed his stethoscope on my father's rising chest and listening for a moment before replying, "I've seen something like this before. It was twenty years ago, maybe, you folks remember when those great big tin soldiers started appearing* all over the place?"

Mustang nodded and I raised my eyebrows. Rolland leaned in and whispered an explanation to me, "Some kooks from your world tried sending soldiers into ours."

"Oh," I mouthed, still slightly quizzical.

"Well," the doctor continued, "I was a big city dweller at the time and was lucky enough to examine the few men in the armor that managed to survive-they had similar ailments to this one. It resembles cases of the bends-where someone goes from an area of very high pressure to an area of very low pressure too fast. The body isn't able to adjust itself fast enough and the whole system is thrown out of balance-the nerves become shotty and chemical imbalances can lead to a number of problems including this fever he has now."

Winry glanced around the room uneasily, "is there anything that we can do?"

The doctor placed his stethoscope back into his black leather back and gave a heavy sigh, "It looks like he's been dealing with this for at least a week now, and his body isn't going to last much longer…I can give you a temporary solution but it's only going to keep him stable for a few months. After that, well…"

I kept my eyes on my father but could feel the floor boards twitch as Rolland shifted his weight behind me. A moment later his hand found mine and he slipped his fingers through mine without taking his eyes off of the doctor. I didn't want him or his hand. I didn't want to be consoled. I wanted my father awake and healthy and scolding me about my future like he had been a few hours ago. But I didn't move. Not one muscle. I just stood there, as always, with our hands hidden behind our backs.

Mustang nodded, "we'll take it."

"Now I gave him a little something to reduce his fever, he seems to have an abnormal level of potassium right now…a lot of sodium too. I'll give you a list of dietary needs, certain foods that will help keep his body in check. There's also a tablet that will work on maintaining a stable internal pressure system so that his organs aren't crushed…er, I'm sorry, I know this must be hard for you folks to hear…you all seem so close to him." A gloomy silence ensued and the doctor sat there awkwardly.

He was truly sympathetic as he stood up and grabbed his bag, "I'll have my assistant come by with that list and a bottle of the pills by tonight at the latest-he should be awake in an hour or two…his body got too overheated is all…once the fever dies down he'll wake."

"Thank you Doctor," Winry said quietly, "I'll show you out."

The doctor nodded gratefully and nervously followed her out of the room. "Oh," he said, turning back to the four us at the last minute, "I forgot to mention that there may be someone else who is…more capable of handling this case. A…er, an alchemist from Xing who has extensive training in ancient medicine. We've got once hell of a medical field these days but nothing really beats the old stuff when it comes to situations like these…she's…well she's young but I think she will be able to help your friend out much more than I can."

"Any help is appreciated," Riza replied kindly and the doctor's pudgy cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He cleared his flustered throat and informed us in a scruffy voice, "her name is May Chang and she's built quite a reputation in Xing…I'll have my assistant instruct you on where to find her as well."

This was good-this was news. "Thank you," I said quietly in a somewhat shaky tone and he nodded once before turning back to head down the hall. Those were the first words I'd muttered since my father's collapse and I could feel a curious glance or two fall upon me for a brief moment but I took no real notice. I gently removed my hand from Rolland's and made my way over to a desk by the window and sat down on the small wooden chair. I wasn't going to leave until he woke up and even then, I'd already made up my mind. I was going to Xing.

* * *

*The doctor is refering to the scene in Conqueror of Shamballa when they sent a bucketload of soldiers (insuits of armor) through the gate as an experiment.


	19. The Duty of Youth

**Author's Note: ****(Disclaimer: You know the drill; I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist in any way, shape or form). **

**If you couldn't tell by now, I'm really into angst and romance and I feel like a lot of the previous chapters have been really heavy on the angst…sorry about that, it's a habit that I'm trying to break. Anyway, I don't remember if May (and Xiao-Mei) was in the original anime series but I really liked her in the Manga and wanted to incorporate her into this story somehow…so she should be showing up in a few chapters :)**

**Quixotically yours,**

**AL**

**P.S. This chapter isn't really necessary to the story…just a bit of fluff before they all go their separate ways =]**

* * *

It was unusually sunny for a day in late autumn and the weather had managed to stay fairly cheerful despite winter's fast descent upon the country. The house was calm and still-the room silent save the sound of my father's tempered breathing. He hadn't woken up after falling unconscious until eight or nine the night before just after the doctor's assistant had dropped by with all of the information that he had promised.

He was up and about for a few hours this morning as well but grew tired of being babied and fell back into a feverish sleep. This worried me. Was it natural-sleeping so much? Even in his condition…the mind can only take so much restoration. I sighed, sitting at the desk beside his bed once again-a deep sense of guilt heavy in my gut.

I was so lost in the nothingness of staring off into the distance that I hadn't heard the door open.

"Hey." A conspiring whisper. I glanced up to see Rolland standing in the doorway. He titled his head, gesturing out into the hall, "Let's take a walk."

I stole one last glance at my father before hesitantly getting to my feet to creep across the room. "Where is everyone?" I whispered as we made our way downstairs. It was unusual to see the Rockbell house so empty. He shrugged, "They're all doing their own things I guess. My dad became all dark and brooding after what happened yesterday, mom went to go talk some sense into him…but I have this bad feeling that they're doing something that I _really _don't want to know about."

I smiled as we stepped out into the chilled afternoon air, "it's nice…what your parents have."

He pretended not to notice what I had said and continued as we trotted down the front steps, "Pinako's still asleep I think and Winry ran to the store…she says it's to get all of those special foods the doctor recommended. Alina made friends with couple of little kids nearby so I asked Ava to take her over to play with them for a bit."

"That's good," I said softly, beginning to feel lame for such inadequate replies. We continued down the dirt path, surrounded by open pastures and a barren tree every so often. I had no idea where we were headed, but it was nice all the same. "So…how are you holding up?"

Rolland always came off as very chivalrous to me. I feel like it's something that he inherited from his father-the big macho ego and 'knight-in-shining-armor' bit. Although beneath the surface both Mustangs had this persona, they hid it well-playing it off as casual concern. It was nice…a subtle show of affection rather than the brutish 'I'll protect you!' routine. Because of this, I smiled in an attempt not to appear too miserable or pitiful, "I'm alright, thanks."

"Uh-huh," he said slowly, easily seeing through my bullshit.

I turned to him with my hands in my pockets and admitted casually, "fine, I'm a mess. I was just told that my father is dying while my only other remaining blood relatives are literally living in a different _universe._ There's a war here, I'm sure there's still a war going on there and in the past year or so anything I once thought I knew about this world, about _life,_ turned out to be a lie and apparently I really don't know the man who raised me half as well as I thought I did. But other than that, I am _superb. _Really, thank you, I'm holding up just fine."

I let out a deep breath and glanced sheepishly at Rolland after my embarrassingly sarcastic tirade. He raised his eyebrows but never did his pace vary. He continued walking with his hands in his pockets just as I was. His silence fueled my venting and I felt the need to press on, "but I can't be mad at anyone. Oh, no, this was all me! I forced this upon myself and everyone else. That stupid book…if I had just left it alone we wouldn't be here! Some many things would have gone differently…Mischa…I killed her. I told her that I would protect her, I would always have her back and I couldn't do a thing!"

I shook my head as hot, angry tears began to swell up in the corner of my eyes, "It was all me. My father and Mischa and you! Your family would be fine…you would be fighting beside your parents in the military and none of these horrible things would have ever been said…it was my existence that ruined everyone else's lives…my father had plans. _Real_ plans-he was going to make something of his life but-ah!"

Before I could turn to see what was going on, my feet were free of the ground. The sheer force of his body knocked mine forward and, losing my balance, I hooked my arm through his before gravity got the best of me-pulling us down together.

"What was that for?" my voice cracked as I laughed, wiping the excess water from my eyes, the crisp scent of grass hovering in the air around my face.

"You were spouting a lot of crap back there so naturally I had to push you out of the way in case a car came and ran you over or you got struck by lightning for being so irrational. It was for your own safety." He rolled onto his back, smirking.

"Naturally," I replied, breathless and sarcastic in the calm of the afternoon. I closed my eyes and exhaled, realizing how completely ridiculous and nonsensical I had been just moments before.

_Don't flatter yourself. None of this is your doing. This is the course of events and you are just another small creature caught up in the flow of things. Nothing would be different even if you never existed. _

A small voice in my head told me. It sounded familiar, as if it belonged to someone I once knew. It wasn't reassuring or comforting but rather straightforward and critical. But it was exactly what I needed to be told. I opened my eyes; feeling almost relieved, and took in the scene around me.

Patches of shade dappled our faces and torsos-the small shadows of what few leaves were left on the tree that we had stumbled below. The fallen leaves littered the ground and crunched every time I adjusted my body in the slightest of ways. "So," Rolland began, picking up a withering leaf, "there's this place in the West City that is in need of a 'biomechanical surgeon'."

He snickered softly, "I guess that's what they're calling it now. A friend of Winry's phoned from Rush Valley and asked her to take the job since she's one of the best…but she isn't willing to leave your dad in his condition…"

"So you're going to do it?" I asked quietly, concentrating hard on the pieces of sky visible between the branches and scarce foliage of the oak tree.

I was compelled to press on when he didn't reply, "The west is bordered by Creta, you'll be in the middle of a war zone." It was a statement-plain and simple and devastatingly apathetic. I wasn't angry or upset, somewhere deep inside maybe, but on the surface I really didn't know what to feel.

"Yeah," his voice was light, like the wisps of clouds I watched become scattered by the breeze, "but I'll be helping people…it's like what you said earlier-It's time that I stopped running from the real world…I believe your exact words were, 'grow a spine'."

He turned the leaf over in his hand while holding it up to the sun and I smiled watching as rays of sunlight danced against the fading red leaf, "it was something to that extent."

"…I'm going to Ishval."

His eyes sparked with curiosity as I said this and the leaf slipped through his fingers and sailed to the ground. "Yeah?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," I replied, in the same tone, "there's a trade route from Ishval to Xing and it cuts directly through the desert."

"You're really going there? "

I propped myself up on my elbows and nodded. "Good." he smiled and closed his eyes, "I looked over the directions the doctor's assistant brought by yesterday, they're simple so it shouldn't be hard to find that girl he was talking about-May, was it?"

"Mmmhmm…he said that she was the best."

I glanced at Rolland before averting my eyes to the sky. I had majorly calmed down and from my renewed sense of serenity, hope blossomed. I wasn't so worried about everything anymore, because something was telling me that everything was going to work out in our favor; that the happy ending my father and all of the others always deserved but received was just around the corner. We only had to wait a little bit longer.

"Hey, Rolland?"

"Hmm?" His voice was quiet, sleepy.

"I'm really sorry…for all of those stupid things I was saying back there…I honestly don't know what came over me but I swear it won't happen again."

He opened his eyes and lied there for a moment, blinking at the sky, before he rolled over onto his stomach. "Don't worry about it," he shook his head with a sympathetic smile, "it happens to the best of us."

I nodded gratefully as a small, whimsical sigh escaped my lips, "so this is what it's like to be the future of the world…"

Rolland chuckled softly, "It's all about the youth. After all, my father always says that *'the duty of youth is to challenge corruption'."

I laughed, not at his cheesy albeit spot-on imitation of his father but rather at this feeling. A light feeling of utter bliss knowing that these were our lives and it was our future…our decisions and mistakes to make and no one could stop us.

Distant noises of playing children wandered our way and I couldn't help but think of everything that had happened in the past few days.

"…your parents seem constricting," I said thoughtlessly as the words just rolled off of my tongue, "but they really care about you."

"I know," he muttered softly, fiddling with a blade of grass.

"They're lucky…that they have each other."

Rolland smirked, "where's all this coming from?"

I sat up and shrugged, "old thoughts…I never saw it before but it's almost alarming how different a relationship with two people who like each other and two people who are destined to be together are."

He laughed as I shifted to lean against the trunk of the tree, "you think my parents are destined to be together? Isn't that a bit of a stretch?"

I shrugged again with a casual half-smile, "Your dad showed me a picture of a family friend…Hughes? It was a picture of his wife and daughter. That very same man, er-his parallel self in the world I came from…he lived in the building across the street from us. A cozy little place above a flower shop that his wife ran…they had a little girl that was the same age as my youngest cousin…anyway, his wife and daughter living in my world were the same as his wife and daughter in this world."

Rolland's obsidian eyes seemed to brighten with interest as I continued, "there's no way that can be a coincidence…I wonder if it means that we're all destined to be with one person regardless of the universe."

He raised his eyebrows incredulously, "soul mates?"

"What?" I rolled my eyes, " don't act like it's some silly invention of my girlish mind, these ideas have been around since the first recorded civilizations-there was one story in particular that we had in my world…I bet you have one just like it here."

"We'll see," he commented, still sounding doubtful, "tell it to me."

"Okay," I took a deep breath and tried to resurrect all tidbits from grade school mythology that I'd pushed aside long ago, "…well, there was this one legend…it stated that humans originally had four arms, four legs, and one head with two faces, but there was this god who was afraid of their power and split them all in half, condemning them to spend their lives searching for the other half in order to be complete."

Rolland titled his head, his eyebrows furrowed, "shit, you're right."

He finally sat up and then raised his palms to me as a sign of defeat, "there's something similar to that in these ancient scripts found in the ruins of Xerxes-the scrolls were nearly impossible to decipher but a lot of scholars got the gist."

I smiled, "doesn't seem so silly now, does it?"

"It would explain that bizarre-o dream you had about Winry being your mom…if she and your dad are destined to be together then they would have found one another in your world too."

I bit my lip uneasily-it made sense, but I didn't like what that would mean. "It makes sense…she said that she could never be the one he loved…that she wasn't the right one…"

"I'm just throwing out ideas; it doesn't mean that anything is true…:

"Yeah," I said softly, "but you have a point. I don't know…but your parents are lucky. I think of them and then I think of my aunt and uncle…and there's such a big difference. I don't doubt that my uncle loves my aunt, but I feel like they aren't destined to be together but instead just sort of…settled with each other because they felt like they were running out of time."

"Why does everyone feel that way?" he asked, his slightly bronzed face illuminated by the afternoon sun.

"Feel what way?"

"Like they are running out of time?"

I rested my head against the trunk of the tree and gazed out at the ever-expanding sky that stretched just beyond our reach. "Maybe because they don't want to admit that they aren't brave enough to use the time they have to do what makes them happy."

"Maybe," he repeated and then added a solemn-sounding, "It's good then…that we're going our own ways.

"Yeah," I smiled, "it's about time that we make something of this provincial life, don't you think?"

"I do," he smiled in return as we sat and watched the time of our last day together slowly tick by. Big changes were under way and the future had suddenly become alarmingly obscure but it was alright, because we were not afraid.

* * *

* "The duty of youth is to challenge corruption" is a real quote by Kurt Cobain.


	20. Separate Paths

**Author's Note:**** (Disclaimer: You know the drill; I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist in any way, shape or form). **

**Just a heads up, in three days I'll be going out of town for the summer and won't be able to update at all for the two months that I will be gone. Sorry :( **

**So in return, I've been trying to post as many chapters as I can…I'm hoping to get up to twenty-seven by the time I leave.**

**Apologetically yours,**

**AL**

* * *

I was starving. The past few days had been so chaotic that I hadn't eaten a proper three meals since...well; it had been a long time. This is why I was so grateful when I answered the door to see Cora, cradling a dish covered in tin foil rather than a baby with small patches of flour dappling her smiling face. "I made these this morning but we had some left over and they just aren't the same the day after…"

My face brightened, "thank you much!"

"Huh? Oh, no problem," she smiled, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.

I glanced down the hall, it seemed like every once else was still gathered in the kitchen. "Do you want to come in?"

"I'd love to be but I have to go open the store, maybe another time?"

"Of course," I nodded and she handed over the large platter to me. We chatted in the doorway for a moment longer until she decided that she really had to go. I thanked her again and closed the door, the sweet scent of whatever she had baked wafting in the air beneath my face. "Who was it?" Winry asked curiously as I walked into the kitchen.

"Cora stopped by…I think I just solved our breakfast problem." For a good twenty minutes we'd been arguing about what to eat-eggs had been voted out early on and cereal was right behind them (anything to do with milk had been banned by my tyrannical father). We were running low on options but the second I removed the foil from the plate it was obvious on what the verdict would be.

Large, decadent waffles rested on the counter. Eyes widened and stomachs grew louder at the mere sight of them. Crisp and golden, they were topped with fruit and something that appeared to be melting ice cream. And so ensued the waffle massacre of the Rockbell residence. There were no survivors.

My father and Mustang even fought over the last strawberry until Alina slipped in between them and plucked it from the plate with her fork. They watched helplessly as she ate it and sat back down, her stomach full and happy. It was nice-laughing together as the morning sun poured in through the open windows. I leaned back in my chair, my ravenous hunger had dissipated and I basked in the wonderfully light atmosphere which I knew, unfortunately, was not going to last long.

It was the day that we had decided to leave and just as I had predicted, a more serious tone enveloped the room as the discussion of train schedules began. "Are you going to West City through Central or Rush Valley?" Riza was asking Rolland and he shrugged.

Winry popped into the conversation, "Central is faster but I think you should stop in Rush Valley before heading West. I have a friend there who will be able to help you settle in to the new place."

"Great," he smiled sleepily and my father then turned to me. "I'm taking a side route from the East down to Ishval," I told him before he even had time to ask.

"You'll be on the same train then?" he asked, referring to Roy and Riza. Mustang shook his head, "We're going with Ava straight to the Eastern Headquarters so we won't be leaving until late noon-she'll have to leave earlier since she needs to catch the train to Ishval once she reaches East City."

"Speaking of," Winry began, glancing back at the clock on the wall, "we should head to the station soon-the kids trains arrive in an hour or so."

I snuck a peak at the clock and frowned, she was right. Soon we would at the train station, going our separate ways, and nothing from that moment on would ever be the same.

* * *

It was a horrible feeling-leaving everyone behind. Alina's violet-tinted eyes had overflowed with tears and her little nose grew red as she sniffled. Winry was more than happy to watch over her but Alina wasn't exactly as thrilled that we weren't staying with her. She only calmed down after the promise that we would soon return. Pinako, on the other hand, had seemed fairly indifferent and it gave me the feeling that she had done this many times before. She smiled and waved and wished us luck-a professional goodbye-er.

Despite the sorrow of the day, I really loved trains. This childhood love of the great big engines came back to me as we hung around the station, saying our final good-byes.

Rolland stood on the opposite platform; his train to Rush Valley was leaving just minutes before mine. I watched as he and his father shook hands, smiling, while Mustang's dark eyes brightened with a discreet sense of pride. He placed a hand on his mother's shoulder and she pulled him into a close hug. I smiled in amusement as he hugged her in return after getting over his initial surprise.

Her lips formed the words, "be safe" as she released her only son. He nodded and picked his bags up from off of the floor, smiling and confident. I froze as our eyes met for a brief moment before he turned back to his mother to reply, "Always."

My father was starting to say something but I only half paid attention, watching Riza lean into Mustang as Rolland disappeared into the seating car.

"Here," my father slipped a small pouch into my jacket pocket and I glanced up at him in surprise before he went on to explain, "it's not much, but it should get you to Xing without a problem."

I could hear the slight jingle of coins as I shifted. I narrowed my eyes, grateful yet suspicious, "how do you have money?"

He shrugged casually, "I _borrowed_ it from the colonel."

I smiled with a condoning shake of my head, "he's a general now-"

"Shh!" my father interrupted, "you'd better get going or you'll miss the train."

I hated to admit it, but he was right. Behind us the giant metal creature snorted with impatience as the last of the passengers boarded. I threw my arms around his neck and he hugged me tightly in return, the tops of my toes barely scraping the ground. My father had always been a good head and a half taller than I was which is why it worried me so much when everyone fretted about his height. If he was short, then what did that make me?

"Thank you daddy," I whispered and released my grasp-he did the same and I was flat on my feet once again. "Hurry back," he smiled as Winry walked up behind him.

I was about to reply, fighting back an onslaught of tears with all my strength when a young, accented voice shouted out, "eh! Eh, girl is you boarding the train? You must come now, we are leaving!"

I waved with a small smile as I rushed to the uniformed man standing in the last open doorway of the boarding car. I climbed up the first two steps and paused, turning in the doorway toward where my father and Winry still stood. "Take care of him!" I called back to her and she nodded while waving a 'good-bye', "I will!"

"Promise?" I cupped my hands around my mouth so that my voice would carry and smiling, she shouted in return, "I promise!"

The door then slid shut in my face and the man shuffled away, grumbling. I stumbled over to a window as the wheels began to turn so that I could watch them fade away into the distance. This was it. The passengers were scarce and the seats fairly empty. I plopped down in an open seat halfway down the aisle and slipped my bag from my shoulder with a hopeful sigh.

I knew that the next time I would see any of them things would be different-we would be different, but it was okay. A small smile crossed my lips as I leaned back against the seat and gazed out at the passing countryside. Our journey had finally begun and slowly but surely, we were going to find all of the pieces and fix what had been broken so very long ago.


	21. A Quarter after One

**Author's Note: ****(Disclaimer: You know the drill; I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist in any way, shape or form). **

**I've had this chapter written for a ****very**** long time but couldn't post it until the story was in the right place…it was going to be chapter twenty-three of four but it works here too. Enjoy :)**

**Love,**

**AL**

* * *

The house was silent-it had been since they'd said their good-byes earlier that day. Edward lied on his back enveloped in darkness, his eyes wide open and focused on the ceiling. "Edward?" her quiet voice was accompanied by a soft knock. He didn't say anything but instead shifted his weight, cringing slightly as a great soreness radiated throughout his upper body. He quickly closed his eyes and feigned sleep as the door slowly crept open.

The floor boards quietly protested under the weight of hesitant, shuffling feet.

"Ed?" she repeated softly and he twitched, fighting to keep his eyes closed as the faint smell of roses and steel washed over him. He shivered from cold air creeping under the blanket as Winry lifted it and inched her way under it. The springs creaked as she shifted, making herself comfortable.

Slowly, Ed opened his eyes to see her mass of long blonde hair sprawled out on the pillow beside him. "Is everything okay?" he asked quietly, his voice sounding out of place in the darkness.

Winry yelped, startled, and nearly fell out of the bed. She turned to him, her pale blue eyes wide with a flustered hand covering her surprised 'O' of a mouth. "Ah…sorry, it's just that Alina's in my room tonight and it's been weeks since I slept in an actual bed…I didn't think you'd mind…"

Ed smirked and moved closer to the wall, giving her more room, "I don't."

She scooted farther from the edge, relieved. "Thanks Ed," she murmured as her eyelids fluttered closed.

"No problem," his voice was barely audible-so quiet to the point where he began to question whether or not he'd actually said it aloud. He studied her silhouette, watching the gentler rise and fall or her curves with every breath she took. Being so close to her…it reminded him of a time that he wasn't proud of and suddenly Edward missed the children that they used to be-the afternoons spent with Winry and Alphonse running and playing and taking in every little aspect of their great big world because nothing ever seemed to be enough.

Ed stretched his arms back and then pensively rested them beneath his head. Although it was late into the night, the clock read one twenty-five, he was wide awake. "So this is what it feels like," Winry said quietly with her back still turned to him, "to be an adult…"

"Yeah," Ed laughed softly, "it feels like sixteen was yesterday…and all that time from then to now was just one long dream."

"The last time I saw you, Edward Elric," Winry rolled over onto her back, "you were off being a hero again…and I waited, like always…"

Edward sighed, "I grew up watching how my father's absence destroyed my mom…and I always told myself that I would never be anything like my father but I guess children really do turn out like their parents…"

There was a brief silence between them before he continued, "…I never meant to make you wait…"

"Yeah," Winry muttered, rolling over so that she fit comfortably into his chest, "I know."

Edward slightly flinched in surprise but soon the initial shock wore off and he slowly brought his arm around to cradle her against him. "She's lucky you know- if children really do end up like their parents…"

A small smile crossed his face as he briefly closed his eyes, taking in the serenity of the night.

_Please don't let this be a dream…_

He opened his eyes, hesitant about what we was about to say when Winry's voice filled the empty air, "I don't think we were very good at growing up."

"At least you got married," Edward pointed out casually.

"You know about that?"

He nodded, his nerves frantic as Winry brought her hand up to rest on his bare chest, "Pinako told me…"

"At least you had a kid," Winry retorted. Ed, rather guilty of the details regarding his daughter's conception, quickly changed the subject, "What was he like?"

"Liam?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, I don't know," Winry sighed, her hand sliding to the side of his torso as she shifted, "he was kind…muscular, very manly-of course he lacked that charming Elric ego. I think I really did love him…but…"

Edward, worried about where she was going with this, carefully sat up and she soon followed, surprised as his body slipped away from hers. "Winry…I…um, there's something that I need to tell you."

"Alright," she said, her brows furrowed with curiosity.

"…about Skyla's mother," Edward clarified.

"Her mother?" Winry repeated as if to better understand the situation.

"Well…it takes two to make a baby," although it went unnoticed in the darkness, his cheeks flushed red. He took her silence as a reply and continued, "The two worlds…this one and the next, they act as parallel to one another…which means that the people are parallel as well. Two Al's, two Ed's…"

"And two Winry's…" she whispered incredulously, beginning to understand where he was going.

He nodded guiltily, "her name was Annaliese…she was a physicist that Al and I met while on a research expedition back when we were busy trying to make the best of our new world…"

"She was my parallel?" Winry asked with wide eyes as she sat up straight, the sheets falling limply to her waist.

"I was so young and stupid…I ignored anything that Al tried to tell me…"

"You had sex with me?" Winry's eyes sparked with amusement as Ed, bright with embarrassment, corrected, "…I had sex with her."

He cleared his throat and continued, "A fellow scientist who knew of this world told her about the parallels and eventually she pieced it all together-that Al and I were from a different place and that I loved someone else…"

Winry grew quiet.

"She was pregnant at the time and left the baby at the hospital for me to take home…five years later she came back to see Skyla but she'd changed in those five years…something had snapped inside of her and she wasn't able to handle living anymore…"

She remained silent and Ed shook his head, "I'm so sorry it was a stupid mistake…but a world without you was-"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence. Before he could react, Winry leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. He allowed himself to fall back onto the pillows and her body lowered with his. It was the kiss that they'd always been waiting for-that which had been a source of doubt and denial all throughout their childhood years had finally come.

Winry pulled away, their faces no more than an inch apart. "You love me?" her voice was curious as her long hair pooled over her shoulders and tickled Edward's chest and shoulder. "Yes," he smiled, "I do."

"Good," she breathed, "then let's wipe away our pasts…we've all done a lot of silly things, but that's what time is for…so that we can heal and grow. It's time for us to move forward."

"You can't just push the past aside…we'll always remember…"

"But," she protested, "When we look back we'll be content as we remember the past. No regrets, no remorse."

"Then I'll make you a promise," Edward slid his arms around her waist, "one with no regrets; that no matter what happens, we'll move forward together."

Winry smiled and closed the space between them. Edward's arms tightened around her as their lips melted together. She could feel the heat of his fever with every gentle touch and pulled away with a sigh. "What's wrong?" he murmured tentatively.

"Speaking of promises, I made one to your daughter that I don't plan on breaking any time soon."

"Huh?"

Winry lightly pecked his cheek and slowly lifted her hand from his chest as she rolled over onto her side. "Get some sleep Ed," she told him softly, "after all, I did say that I'd take care of you."

Edward's lips curved upward to form a small smile as he draped his arm around Winry and whispered into her ear, "I'll be looking forward to it."

And once again the house was quiet and still as they drifted off to sleep in those peaceful hours just before the dawn.


	22. On The Road Again

**Author's Note: (Disclaimer: I own nothing, etc.)**

**Hi :)**

**...I kind of over estimated the rate at which I would update, I ran out of time and wasn't able to finish the next chapter so this is going to be the last one until I get back. Sorry, I hope no one minds. **

**Thank you for all of the reviews and I'll see you in August!**

**Have a good summer =]**

**Love,**

**AL**

* * *

"Shit."

"Ma'am?"

"I'm sorry, I know it's in here somewhere, re-" my frantic hands froze. When I looked back up at the woman she was glaring at me with narrowed eyes. I flashed her a feeble, apologetic smile and backed away, "I'm sorry, I'll come back later."

Her icy gaze moved on to the next person in line as a fake smile crossed her waxy face as she greeted him, "May I help you?"

I drifted over to a bench and sat down with sigh. "Having some trouble, young lady?"

I glanced to my left with the slight roll of my head to see an elderly man hunched over at the far end of the bench. "You could say that," I smiled politely and he grinned in return-a happy, no-tooth grin that lifted his rose-colored cheeks and caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle. I fought back a bought of adoration-really old men are just so cute!

My heart nearly melted. My old man fetish was far from passion driven, I was just overcome with that _aww_ feeling whenever I saw one…they were like puppies. His gray eyes lingered on me and I titled my head back to the sky with a sigh, "I was pick-pocketed."

The shaky words clung to my tongue like a baby sloth to its mother. I had been so foolish…

"What do you expect?"

"Eh?" I turned in surprise as a kid hopped over the bench and plopped down between us.

"An innocent little thing like you wandering around this station-you're a prime target." I studied the dark-haired boy…he looked possibly older than I was.

I narrowed my eyes and tried to justify myself, "I woke up and my train was leaving so I ran to buy a transfer ticket and someone bumped into me…next thing I know I'm trying to buy a ticket and my money is gone…it was a coincidence that we bumped into each other-anyone could have been the target…and I am _not _innocent!"

The boy chuckled, "how naïve. That's the easiest strategy in the book!"

"Get out of here you scruffy bastard, no one asked you." The old man grumbled defensively.

"Aw, can it old man!" the kid shot back and flipped his mess of auburn hair out of his eyes.

I sighed and grabbed my bag from off of the floor, "look, can anyone point me to a pay phone? I have some friends in East City that I can call…"

"East City?" the boy questioned "where do you think you are, lady?"

"Uh, East City," I replied, skeptical of this kid's sanity.

"Oh…how unfortunate," the old man shook his head in sympathy and my heart suddenly sank into my gut. _Unfortunate? _

"This is the slums, baby." His face broke out into a large, amused grin and I hung my head in disappointment. "I knew this wasn't my stop! Ugh…I can't ask them to come all the way back here and pick me up…"

The boy leaned in alarming close with a coy smile on his face, "It sounds like you need some financial help...and I know just the place where you can get it."

I jumped, startled, as the old man grabbed the boy by the collar and yanked him back, hard. "Oh no you don't!" he scolded, "You're one of those little scoundrels-a measly servant of the Ice Queen!"

"Cool it gramps," the kid growled, "and don't call her that!"

"I'll call that witch whatever I please!' The old man retorted and the two glared at one another, the tension sparking in the air between them. "The Ice Queen?" I raised my eyebrows, confused, and they both turned to me, surprised.

"You definitely aren't from around here, huh?" the boy asked and the old man shook his head again, this time apologetically. "No," I answered quietly, still utterly confused.

"Great," he grinned and grabbed my hand, tugging me off of the bench despite the protests of the old man and being the innocent naïveté that I am, I willing followed. And so began my adventure with Veronika Moon and The Sun Dance Kid.

Veronika Moon was, in one word, daunting. She sat opposite of me at the very end of the long maple table, staring. She was very blonde and very pale with very blue eyes that pierced one's soul. And _so _tall. Her body was a dancer's dream-thin and bony; her movements were graceful and her presence alone held such elegance that one felt inferior after immediately entering the same room as her. Her trim, shining nails tapped once against the table as she sat up even straighter and her pale pink lips began to move, "Why did you bring this girl to me, Jacob?"

Her voice mimicked her face-stone cold and apathetic. I was starting to understand the 'Ice Queen' bit. "She's traveling east," the boy stood respectfully by the superfluous doors, "I thought that she could be of some assistance to you…"

Veronika Moon considered this for a moment before addressing me, "Where is your exact destination?"

"I plan to go to Xing from the Ishvalan trade route."

I thought I caught a glimpse of satisfaction in her eyes…or maybe it was just the jarring light of the chandelier. "Well done, Jacob, she _can_ be of some use."

The boy nodded and I narrowed my eyes, "I'd prefer not to be spoken of as if I'm a puppet."

"That's exactly what you are," her tone was beyond condescending, "my little pawn."

I raised my eyebrows incredulously and stood up, "Talk about a serious ego trip. I'm not playing this game."

"Don't be so hasty," she warned, "money-that's what you need right?"

I sat back down with a sigh, "I'm listening."

Veronika's lips twitched into a smirk, "Say I fund your expedition to Xing and back if you do me a little favor."

I glanced back at Jacob. His sheer exuberance after having pleased her was almost nauseating. "What kind of favor?"

She laid a photograph down on the table and sent it forward with her fingertips. It slid effortlessly my way and I glanced at the tattered picture. It was only half of a photograph-the right side had been completely ripped off-and was stained with age. A young girl, who looked to be the exact opposite of Veronika Moon in every way imaginable, was smiling on the table in front of me. She was lean with a mass of layered red hair framing her heart-shaped face; her wide eyes two emerald pools shining vibrantly against her half-sun burnt, half-tanned skin.

"I'm searching for this girl-she's been camping out just outside of Ishval."

A soft laugh escaped my throat, "Look, I'm no assassin."

"I want her alive," Veronika Moon replied simply, her voice so cold that it sent shivers down my spine.

I shook my head, "really, it's important that I get back home as soon as possible I can't go looking for some-"

"Money," she tempted, "you won't get anywhere without it and it will certainly make your journey much longer. Find her-I don't care when or under what circumstances. Details mean nothing. I will _give_ you the money as long as you bring her to me, _alive._"

Her proposition seemed ridiculous but as much as I hated to admit it, I was shit out of luck without a single cenz. I was trapped and she knew it. "Alright," I sighed, "but the _entire_ trip must be payed for. Even my train back to Resembol."

She remained stoic, "That's not a problem. When we are finished here Jacob will give you a card which you will charge all of your expenses on and I will pay all of it off when you hand her over to me. If you fail to hold up your end of this agreement then you will be responsible for all expenses and I will have you pursued and tried for theft."

I blinked…_pursued and tried_?

"Agreed?" her pale eyebrows arched upward and I nodded hesitant of what I was about to get myself into, "yes."

"Good." for a moment it looked as if she almost smiled, "We will write up a contract as well."

I groaned inwardly. Of course-why not add on to the legal obligations that will be imposed upon me if I don't follow through?

"Jacob," Veronika commanded, "I will be in my office. Give our guest the usual rundown."

"Yes ma'am," he nodded obediently as she stood up and silently swept across the room.

I eyed the kid I'd met at the station cautiously as he pulled up a seat next to me. "The usual?" I asked, watching as the door closed shut behind Veronika Moon. He smiled, "yeah, we do this a lot. We hire anyone we can but most people stopped coming back and those who did said that they'd found her but were unable to catch her."

"You make her sound like some kind of stray animal," I frowned, glancing back at the picture.

He shrugged, "We're all animals."

I hadn't been expecting such a deep reply and looked up at him in surprise. He was unphased and started to give me the 'usual rundown' of things, "I'm not allowed to tell you _why_ Miss Moon is after her, so don't ask. From recent reports, she likes to ride the railways and usually camps out in the desert between Ishval and Xing. She is fast, dangerous, and is also known to be a thief so-"

I narrowed my eyes, the girl in the picture looked nothing like the kind of person he was describing.

"Who is this girl?" I asked incredulously.

Jacob leaned forward on his elbows and pinned the corner of the photograph down with his index finger, "and you may _never_ lose this picture. It is the only one you will be given and even if you fail you must come back here and return this. Under no condition is it acceptable for anything to happen to this photograph. Am I clear?"

"As crystal," I replied, beyond confused by that point.

"Okay," he sighed, pushed the photo closer to me, and then finally told me what I really wanted to know. "Her name," he began, "is Lorelei Solaris and they call her The Sun Dance Kid."


	23. A Family Reunion

**Author's Note:**

**I'm so sorry! ...and also, I'm back :)**

**I've been back for a while now, but I admit...I was distracted by a new series. For those who have yet to read The Hunger Games trilogy, I thoroughly recommend it. They are amazing books :)**

**Anyway, I'm sorry for taking so long to get back to this story. I might not be able to update very often in the future either, since school started a couple of weeks ago. I will try my best to get the chapters out as quickly as possible though. This is just a little something...I thought it would be nice to have a scene with only the original characters in it.**

**Enjoy :)**

**Love,**

**AL**

* * *

Every little detail, from the rusty hinges to the stucco on the wall, of the Roulette reeked of the word 'shady'. It was a run-down building with walls the color of rotting flesh with an odor to match. Paint flaked from every possible surface and the walls were lined with large cracks that ran all the way down to the teetering foundation of the decomposing refuge. It was far from an attractive place but it worked just fine for the clan destine meeting that the General had in store.

The Roulette, a long forgotten bookstore-turned-bar, was tucked away in the shadows of a train trestle and the whole place shook whenever a steam engine passed over head. Mustang quickly grabbed his wife's elbow as an engine tottered by and the building quivered. An amused smirk played on Riza's lips as she glanced his way. "I'm just making sure you don't lose your balance," he murmurs under his breath. "Mmmhmm," she replies doubtfully in return.

Despite her teasing, the heavily-dressed blonde shared the same anxiousness that plagued her husband as they strolled into the obscure dive. "This foundation is questionable," Mustang mumbled, carefully placing each foot on the stone ground.

"So is your manhood," someone commented. The couple froze in surprise, only lightening up when the stranger revealed himself with a chuckle, "Easy now, I was invited."

Mustang slowly turned to see Havoc lounging on a bar stool, a half-lit cigarette dangling from his mouth. "Who else is here?" Hawkeye's pale pink lips were on the verge of a genuine smile.

"Everyone," Havoc shrugged and then said with a flick of his hand, "See for yourself."

His words proved true. Mustang, his dark eyes finally adjusted to the dim lighting, realized that not only was the whole gang present, but that they were the only six people occupying the building. He frowned, "has this place been empty since you got here? Not many people know about it anymore but it _is _still in business."

A stout, black-haired man with wire glasses stepped forward with the shake of his head, "No sir, there wasn't a single soul here when we came, but I checked for wires and cameras…there's no surveillance at all either."

Hawkeye nods, "Excellent work Fuery."

With that, the tense atmosphere that had enveloped the group shattered with ease. A tall, heavyset man hoisted himself up off of his chair to be the first to offer a handshake to their old comrades.

"It's good to see you again, Braidykins," Hawkeye teased and his cheeks flushed pink.

"Was your trip well, sir?" A tall, gray-haired man inquires.

The General nods, "Yes, thank you Falman."

The old friends quickly fell into the conversation, asking of families and troubles caused by the recent attack. They chatted with the familiarity of long-time companions, laughing and joking and sharing sympathies. The meeting had been arranged by Mustang after he arrived in East City but it appeared to be more of social get-together rather than a collaborative military endeavor.

Hawkeye let out a small sigh and Mustang sent a questioning glance her way. "It's good to be back," she explained with a small smile. Mustang took in a deep breath of musty air, gazing at his most trusted officer. Her blue eyes had paled over the years and were framed with the slightest of wrinkles but remained as genuine as the first day he had met her.

Mustang gave her a small smile along with a small squeeze of her hand before he turned to his men. "Alright," he began, all eyes falling upon him, "at this moment the military is on the brink of collapse. The death toll has yet to be released but from what little news I received from the higher-ups, it's going to be a big number so we have to get to work organizing new squadrons as soon as possible. After all, we have a war to win."


	24. Quite A Mighty Fist

**Author's Note:**

**Which arm hurts when you're having a heart attack? My left arm has been really sore all day and also my chest hurts…and my nose is stuffy and I think I'm developing arthritis in my right pinky toe. Huh, weird. Anyway I'm sorry, again, that I'm updating at such a slow rate and also if the story seems to be a bit slow right now. I had to submerge myself in all things Fullmetal for a few solid hours before I could get back into the flow of things…the story will definitely start picking up again soon.**

**Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Hypochondriatically (-I don't think it's a real form of that word…) yours, **

**AL**

* * *

I had never really give much thought to the order of wealth and social being of Amestris, but the difference between East City and Ishval was almost overwhelming. Somewhere during the route through the sea of sand the tracks degenerated, transitioning from sturdy steel rails into rickety slabs of wood half buried beneath tiny grains.

A blast of dry heat welcomed me as I stepped from the train with nothing but the money that I had received from Veronika Moon during my previous detour. The excitement brought on by the mere sight of the Ishvalan slums, however, kept my mind far from any thought of the alternative mission that I had been assigned in exchange for the funding. The train's whistle pierced the air, bringing me back to my senses. My train to Xing wouldn't arrive for another day and I would need to find a place to stay for the night.

"Can I help you miss?"

"Huh?" I tore my gaze away from the sand stone station that I had been standing in front of since I left the train.

_How are you going to go all the way from Xing and find not just one, but two people if you can't even manage to get off of the train platform? _

Although my face remained blank, I was frowning on the inside. Such a journey was beginning to feel uncertainly heavy. "You seem lost, is there something that you need?"

I turned my attention to the girl standing beside me. She was swathed in a pale blue robe, embroidered with an elaborate floral design, leaving her sandal-clad feet and sun-washed face as her only visible skin. A thin scarf with the same embroidery as the robe but a slightly darker color was wrapped around her head, covering the majority of her very short, dark brown hair.

Despite all of this, her eyes were what I found to be most alarming. They were a shade of green that I had never before seen-an extremely dark olive color rimmed by startling flecks of gold. After a moment of studying the young woman, I finally found my tongue, "Yes, umm…I was hoping to find a place to stay…is there somewhere that you would recommend?"

The woman nodded and revealed a slight gap between her front teeth as she smiled. She had that kind of smile that makes you want to smile in return. And so I did. "I know just the place-an Inn down the road from here."

"Really? Would you mind giving directions?" Maybe my luck was turning around after all.

"There's no need," she announced happily, "I'll show you the way."

My naiveté quickly turned to suspicion, "It's alright, really, I'm sure that I can find it on my own."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, "I must be coming off as quite strange…I apologize. My name's Kanta, my mother runs the Inn and sends me down to the train station to offer our services to anyone in need. Not many people ever travel out this way so we have to scoop up business whenever we can."

I wasn't very happy about the prospect of just being a profit to them, but the sun was slowly drifting closer to the horizon and I was in desperate need of a place to stay. "I'm Skyla," I offer my hand and she shakes it. Her darkened skin is cool and smooth, like running water, but the contrast in color between my hand and hers is almost alarming.

"Now that we are no longer strangers…I guess you should lead the way."

"Wonderful!" Kanta's face lights up with exuberance and immediately, I relax. They really must not have too many visitors so far out in the desert. I followed the Kanta like a stray dog and marveled at the town that unfolded around me with every step. The Ishvalan community was small-from what I saw walking through the streets made up of flat, loosely-placed stones everyone was very close. People, all swathed in robes similar to the one that Kanta wore, waved and smiled and greeted one another as they went about their evening routines.

The buildings were fairly simple and everyone seemed to look alike. Sandstone structures with flat, brown-tiled roofs-a lot of tans and browns and grays-almost as if they were trying to blend into the surrounding sand. The sky was tainted with the colors of the night by the time that we reached the Inn. It resembled all of the other buildings that we had passed but seemed to be significantly larger than all of the rest. "Mami? We have a customer," Kanta called as we stepped through the door.

The Inn was a simple place-a wooden floor with dark, mahogany tables and matching chairs scattered about the room. The few stools that were gathered around the counter that served as a barrier between the main room and the kitchen were occupied. I stood inconspicuously by the door. It felt as if everything about me screamed that I was not one of them-short and blonde and ridiculously pale, dressed in a white button-up shirt and a pair of dark brown pants tucked into my black boots.

"A costumer? What a pleasure, how many nights will they be staying?" A woman appeared from behind the counter with a smile on her stunning face. Long, dark locks of hair pooled down around her shoulder and her eyes, the same shade as Kanta's, danced brightly in the dim lighting of the Inn. Kanta turned questioningly to me and the attention of the room had suddenly shifted my way.

"One," I replied meekly.

"Shall I take your things to your room then?" Kanta's polite voice broke the tension in the air and I shook my head, feeling my face flush red, "Oh, no thank you…I don't have anything with me."

A man perched upon one of the stools narrowed his soot-colored eyes, "you travel all the way out here without a single possession?"

I nodded, feeling more young and clueless than ever, "Only the clothes on my back."

"How unusual," he mutters in return and the two sitting beside him grumble in agreement. Kanata's mother flashed them a quick scowl before turning back to me with a gentle smile, "why don't you take a seat, dear? I'll be serving dinner soon."

"Oh, of course!" Kanta replied for me and quickly led me to a lone stool.

"Oh, um…thank you. I wasn't expecting a place to stay _and _a meal. It's very kind of you." I sat down and Kanta rushed behind the counter to help her mother. The only other people in the room were the three men seated at the stools. Two of them were young and fit-looking to be no older than thirty while the one on the far left seemed to be pushing eighty-nine. "Are…you all guests?"

The two younger men gazed at me with cold, observant eyes. "No," the one with the pale gray eyes answered. "We live here." I was surprised by the suddenly friendly tone that the other man took on. His black hair was short and stuck up in all different directions, his eyes a dark amber.

"Oh." I gave them a curt nod before resting my eyes upon the stained countertop. It wasn't the foolish feeling of embarrassment brought on from being an outcast that bothered me, it was the fact that I felt like an outcast even when I was in Central City or Resembool. No matter where I am placed in this world it is never somewhere that I can claim to belong to. It is not Germany or England or France…it is not me. But it is my father and for him, I had to manage.

A thickly sweet aroma wafted through the open door way of the kitchen, causing my mouth to water. My last proper meal was a couple of days ago and I was beyond famished. "You are an alchemist," the man with gray eyes stated firmly. This is not a question. His confidence pulls me out of my food-based fantasies and back into the shady room of the old Inn.

"Yes," I confirmed and met his steady gaze.

He let out a distasteful grunt, "you should not be here."

"Kane!" Kanta's mother scolded from the other room, "if you are going to be rude to our guests then I suggest that you take you find somewhere else to eat for the night."

The man let out a heavy, exasperated sigh and tightly clenched his jaw shut. "Aw, he's had a rough day, Ma, take it easy," the charcoal-haired boy frowned and his mother emerged from the kitchen with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows sternly furrowed, "Don't forget who you are speaking to young man. I don't care if he was struck down by lightning today, we are always polite to our guests. Am I clear, Xander?"

"Yes, Ma."

"Good." An angelic smile replaced her overbearing scowl and her slightly wrinkled face was once again restored to a state of peaceful being as she turned away from us once again. I raised my eyebrows in surprise and Xander's sun-ripened cheeks flushed a pale pink, "I apologize…it seems that we _have_ been a bit rude…I'm Xander…and this is Kane."

"Skyla," I smiled sympathetically and Kane gave a grunt of acknowledgement. It was quite charming.

"What a name."

"Huh?"

The elderly man on the far side of the bar had spoken for the first time since I walked in. His dark eyes were hardly half way open and riddled with wrinkles-deep, winding wrinkles were etched everywhere on his earth-colored skin except for his glimmering scalp, which still harbored a few stray clumps of silver hair. "Skyla…it means fugitive," the old man let out a throaty chuckle. I gave an uneasy smile and shook my head, trying to pose some kind of good impression upon them, "Oh, I'm no criminal…"

Kane eyed me warily as if he had something to say that would contradict my statement but his lips remained sealed in a fine line. The man chuckled once more, causing the sagging skin of his neck to quiver, "It means you have no home."

My heart froze. "Gramps don't go scaring off our costumers again!" Kanta scolded as she exited the kitchen with a pitcher of water and a tray of empty glasses.

"He's right," I murmured softly and graciously accepted the water that Kanta pours for me. My father was once my home, but I hardly know who he is anymore. Her eyes glistened with a sort of gentle sorrow as her gaze rested upon me. "Don't say that." She frowned.

"A soul devoid of God will always be a wanderer. You will never have a home," Kane's voice if quiet, but steady.

I took a sip of my water, "I'm sorry, but I have to disagree with that."

Xander nodded a 'thanks' to his sister as she poured him a glass before curiously questioning me, "So you're an atheist?"

I shook my head and corrected him, "Agnostic."

Kane rests his elbows on the counter top, the gray fabric of his sleeves brighten his ashen eyes. "There is no place for women in the matters of religion," he informed me. This boy had nerves of steel. I opened my mouth to rebuke but was intercepted by Kanta's mother, who cradled steaming dishes in her arms.

"There is a place for women everywhere," her mother warned sternly and set the plates down before us.

"I really appreciate such hospitality." I smiled, temporarily changing the subject. The meal in front of me looked beyond delicious. White rice and steamed broccoli with some kind of pale meat soaked in orange goo that that was possibly the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen.

Kanta smiled, "it isn't a problem, really."

It didn't matter if I was going to have to pay for all of this wonderful service in the end; it was nice to feel as if they were doing it out of the kindness of their hearts. The diversion made by the food was hardly effective and the conversation shot right back into religion the moment after the other prayed over our meal.

"Explain to me your ways then, alchemist," Kane started up again.

I sighed and took a quick bite before giving in, "I don't know. I have nothing against any religious practices, really…I respect all ideals…it's just that I, personally, am not comfortable with any type of religion. I don't believe that we could possible know the origins of the universe, or even the origins of ourselves, when there is such an infinite space that stretches farther beyond us than we could ever imagine. There is most definitely some kind of force through which we are all connected...through which life is connected…but I can't say for certain what it is. I cannot look someone else in the eye and tell them that I am one hundred percent sure of how and why everything is what it is. I would be lying…and that's something that I just can't do."

This seemed to have sparked a fire within Kane and his textual references were soon without end. I began to pay attention as he came to the end of his tirade, "Our Father's word is true! How can you not understand that it lies within the text? It doesn't matter. Even if you could see as I do you still would not be saved, you are an anomaly, wanderer. You distort the creations of the Lord."

The elderly man's eyes flickered with interest as I quietly rested my fork down on my nearly empty plate and replied calmly, "If your god does not make mistakes…then alchemy is not a mistake either. If everything is created for a reason, if everything has a purpose then alchemy does as well. I'm not creating monsters. Some people try to…but alchemy isn't the root of this evil…it's the human soul. People abuse alchemic abilities to fit their own disproportioned needs. But the science itself is fairly simple-it's equivalent exchange. To gain, something of equal value must be lost. Alchemy is turning dirt into mud, and then mud into clay. Everything is the same, everything is continuous…the only difference being the form in which it takes."

"That is enough Kane, I'm sure that we have exhausted our guest enough for one night," Kanta's mother declared and began to clear the plates from the counter top. He grunted once more and turned an icy shoulder to me while Xander began a light conversation with his grandfather. Another hour or so passed as I spoke with Kanta and her mother, whose name I learned was Asha, while the men had a gruffly hushed conversation of their own by the flickering embers of the dying fire.

The faint song of the crickets bled through the walls from the outside as the flames withered among the crumbling logs in the fire place. Kanta helped her grandfather climb the rickety stairs while Xander spoke quietly to his mother. I yawned and stood up from my place on the stool, stretching my aching limbs. It came as quite a surprise when Kane cleared his throat and stood up as well.

"Wanderer," he mumbled and I turned back to his solemn face. He continued, "The Xingese believe in a dragon pulse…the Letions in a sun deity…and we have our Ishvala…no matter what one believes the wrath of God remains the same…and his mighty fist will deliver judgment whether or not you think it to be true."

"That's quite a mighty fist," I commented thoughtfully.

It almost looked as if a smile played upon Kane's lips as he replied, "I respect you…you are more than you appear to be. Remember what you stand by, Wanderer, and Ishvala might just take it easy on you in the end…"

He doesn't give me time to respond. I barely managed a small smile before he turned abruptly and headed into a back room, which I had later discovered was a place beneath the stairs that he and Xander shared. I said my 'good nights' to Kanta and Asha before I made my way up the stairs and to the room which they had pointed out to me. I was far too tired to notice anything-not the color of the walls of the feel of the furniture. I didn't even turn on a light, but rather felt my way through the darkened space until I stumbled upon a small bed heavily layered in blankets.

I slid beneath the covers with a sigh. I had been on the road for no more than a week and already the journey was turning out to be quite something. I closed my heavy eyelids and lied there, listening to the sounds of night that filled the air around me. I thought of my father…and uncle…and Rolland…and his parents…the list was never ending. I rolled over onto my side and took in a deep breath of the crisp desert air. Already I had experienced more than I could have possibly fathomed just years ago…and already I knew that there would be so much more to come.


End file.
